She grabbed the suitcase and shoved the gate open, tearing off weeds to free it a little. If there was a path to the verandah, she couldn’t see it. Dragging herself through the knee-length grass, she hoped there were no snakes. Were there any snakes in this part of the country? She had no idea. She’d never even heard of Rosella Cove until a few weeks ago.

She went up to the safety of the verandah and opened the door. It creaked loudly and as Nicole stepped into the doorway, the air from outside whooshed in. She started coughing and choking as billows of dust swirled around her. How long had it been since anyone had set foot inside this house?

She flicked on a light and took in her new home. Home. Such a foreign word.

Above her the ceiling was cracked and yellowed, pieces of plaster missing here, sagging there. The paint on the wall stretching away to her left was peeling. The stench that assaulted her nose – old, musty, some sort of caustic funk – was almost too much to bear.

As she took a few steps in, the floorboards beneath her groaned in protest.

There was a thud and a screech.

Nicole jumped, dropping her suitcase, and it opened, clothes spilling into the dust.

In the corner of the room that opened out from the hallway, a pair of small yellow eyes stared out at her, daring her to make a move.

Nicole screamed. The monster ran.

Nicole’s chest pounded and she scooped her clothes back into the suitcase and ran outside.

Locked inside her car, she concentrated on her breathing – in, out, in, out. How on earth had it all gone so wrong? How had she ended up here?

She knew how. She just hadn’t come to terms with it and wasn’t sure she ever would. But she had to try. As hard as it was to accept, this was her new life now. For a little while at least.

September, Three Years Ago

‘No peeking.’ Mark’s hand rested gently across Nicky’s eyes. The warmth radiating from his body as he pressed against her back enveloped her, and he directed her towards the balcony of his fifth-floor apartment. Their apartment.

‘What’s this about?’ She laughed.

‘You’ll see.’

A warm breeze hit her as they went outside. The rumble of the constant traffic below, the music of early morning.

‘Okay,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Open.’

On the small glass table in the middle of the balcony sat a laptop with a fat pink bow stuck to its top.

‘Happy six-month-aversary.’ His grin revealed dimples that gave her goosebumps. Man, she loved those dimples.

‘I thought moving in together was our six-month-aversary present.’ She hugged him tightly.

‘It is. But this is just a little something extra. You can’t keep using that dinosaur you call a computer. Not if you’re going to be a serious writer.’