The bookcase in the corner was undisturbed, and there was no hiding place there, anyway.

Evie walked quietly to the door and stuck her head out, listening.

The spare room next. She slipped inside, not quite closing the door so she could keep an ear out for her mother. The bed was made up, just in case they had company, not that they ever did anymore, not since her dad’s business had got so quiet. There were no grandparents, no uncles or aunts, and certainly no sleepovers with friends from school, and Evie looked quickly through the chest of drawers by the window. Her mother had fallen into the habit of using it for extra storage, not for her clothes, but for the various crafting activities she took up periodically. The leather folder lay in the bottom drawer, tucked away next to a bundle of knitting patterns and a few hanks of leftover yarn. Evie picked it up, opened it – but leafing through its contents, it quickly became obvious there was nothing to do with Elder House, or any of their former houses. She put the file back, then closed the drawer quietly.

She tried to think. She was looking for old paperwork, old documents – possibly what she needed had been put away with her dad’s work stuff. He rarely worked from home, but he did keep records of past projects boxed up in the attic. She looked around the room, checking that she’d left no sign of her search. It was as neat and tidy as it ever was, ready for use, a paint-spattered ladder leaning against the wall.

It was tempting to turn back, give in. If Tyler had been telling the truth, then Kym had only ever been using her to find out about the house, and her mother had been right all along. But she was committed now; she thought of Maude, standing at the top of the steps, clutching the shoe, blood trickling down her arm. She picked the ladder up and carried it onto the landing.

*

Evie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been up here. But it certainly wouldn’t have been without one of her parents. It had been last January, probably, when she’d helped her dad put away the Christmas decorations.

She took a breath. There were no lights, it was cramped and dusty, and there was an awful moment between the last step and the attic floor when she thought she wasn’t going to make it. The ladder wobbled as she pushed up and against it, both hands clamped to the dusty floorboards, into the dark.