Alice lay there, eyes closed and mouth open, looking beautiful. Stephanie felt such an overwhelming sense of love and, not for the first time, sheer thrilling excitement that this was her life now. She had a family. Parents and a sister. She was a normal girl living a normal life. Or it would be a normal life, just as soon as she escaped all the weirdness.

She crept back out and went downstairs. Her first stop was the kitchen. She’d been starving for hours, but hadn’t bothered to tell Skulduggery. She’d started to feel that these biological needs of hers – to eat, to pee – were complications he could do without knowing about. Things were fraught enough between them as it was – she didn’t want to annoy him any further.

She heated some leftovers in the microwave and washed them down with a glass of cold milk. Her belly no longer rumbling, she cleaned the plate and took her glass into the living room. Her dad didn’t even glance up from the TV.

“Muh,” he said, waving a hand.

“Hi, Dad. Whatcha watching?”

“TV.”

“What’s on?”

“Film.”

“What’s it called?”

He didn’t answer.

“Dad? What’s it called?”

“Three Days of the Condor.”

“Is it good?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Is it complicated?”

“Very.”

“What’s it about?”

“Not sure,” he said. “I think it’s about a bird.”

Stephanie left him to his movie, and picked up a sealed envelope from the side table. Someone had written Edgleys across it, in handwriting she didn’t recognise. Something slid around inside. She dug a fingertip in, ripped it open, and a memory stick fell out on to her palm.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“What’s what?”

She turned, showed him.

“Oh, that,” he said, looking back at the TV. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a memory stick,” she said.

“If you knew, why did you ask?”

“It was in an envelope addressed to us.”

“Was it?” her dad asked. “That’s odd. That’s very odd. Well, it’s sort of odd, but not really.” He paused the movie. “I have no idea what’s going on in this film.”

“Who sent the envelope?”

“Hmm? Oh, someone knocked on the door, handed it over, said something and walked away. The strangest thing I’ve ever seen except, again, it wasn’t really.”

“Who was it?” said Stephanie.

“Haven’t the foggiest.”

“What did he say?”

“Can’t really remember. It was weeks ago. He stood there and I remember thinking, This is unusual. It looked like he was about to cry, or hug me, or both. I think he said something like, It’s an honour to meet you. Which, of course, it is, though most people don’t usually say it out loud.”

“And you didn’t open the envelope?”