They had left Chloe’s house at the crack of dawn, under steel skies and a soft haze. Ben had argued against her joining him, but there was no argument really. She was already lacing up her boots as they spoke, committed to the cause before he had told her where he was going.

Ben could hardly believe it himself. Hope and desperation became indistinguishable. Whichever one it was that guided them, they both led to Tír Mallacht and that cottage on the hill. It was there that the priest had uncovered the creeper’s creation. What if, in his haste, he had overlooked some vital clue? One hidden there still, waiting to be found.

‘I’m the archaeologist, remember?’ Chloe had said as she slipped an arm into her parka. ‘I can’t have you playing inside some run-down cottage without me.’

‘There’s no point in the both of us risking our lives on this.’

‘You said you wanted a chance to be a better dad, didn’t you? Well, come on, get your shit together. And I’m coming because I can’t trust you to do anything by yourself.’

Chloe was more like her old self back in the house. Only when Ben started the car did the colour drain from her cheeks. Words became few and forced. And that longest of journeys felt far too short. It was the thought of returning to that place, to the home of the very thing that wanted them dead. A sense of parting graced the air between them. Conversation wasn’t necessary to know what the other was thinking. Sights and sounds were finally seen and heard for what they truly were, because there was every chance that they would never be experienced again.

Jess was probably still fuming over how he had hung up on her the day before. And there was the matter of Aoife’s belated maintenance money. He had fallen behind on his payments again. Jess’s phone was on silent and no text message of Ben’s would be read until she saw fit.

‘We’ll keep on trying until we lose coverage,’ Chloe had said.

‘Even if she answers and even if she believes me, which isn’t likely, it still doesn’t save Aoife.’

Three years old and perfect in every way. A gift he now felt undeserving of. Would she even remember him? Did it matter if she did or not? So long as the creeper was out there, she would never be safe. Ben’s concern was for his daughter’s safety, not her memories of him.