Leon removes his jacket too, and throws it down with a thud onto the sofa. He looks bedraggled, exhausted, and Alice wishes she could turn back time to the moment when they were sitting in their favourite pub in Whitby, Henry sprawled by the fire at their feet. If she could turn back time, never have come here, she would. This was all her fault.

‘So, when did you last see Mitch and Gabriela?’ Leon asks, his eyes steady on Lori.

‘About ten minutes after you took off,’ Lori begins. ‘Mitch went upstairs to his room. He’d had a fair few brandies.’ She bites down on her full lip, pulls away from Leon’s gaze. ‘Was worse for wear, stumbling around the place.’

‘And Gabriela?’ Christine chips in. ‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know.’ Lori clears her throat, her cheeks flushing. ‘I hadn’t taken much notice of her. She was behind the bar, and what with the language barrier, well it meant we couldn’t really have a conversation. I noticed she’d gone, just after Mitch went to his room.’ She looks down as though the chessboard floor has the answers, stroking her thick swath of hair that’s draped over one shoulder. ‘I hate this place, always have,’ she says. ‘When I found myself alone here, I wanted to cry. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid.’

‘Oh, love.’ Christine touches her arm gently. ‘It must have been so frightening for you.’

‘It was.’ Lori sniffs and nods, her voice a wobble. ‘What happened to the Winslows was playing on my mind like a horror film on repeat. I couldn’t get the fact they were upstairs …’ She looks towards the staircase and shudders. ‘I thought if I sat here in reception, I could have eyes everywhere. I’ve been a complete mess, quite honestly. I just thank God you’re all back safe.’

‘Well, we don’t have to worry for much longer, Lori,’ Christine says, her voice even as she pulls off her sodden beanie and wrings it out. ‘The police are on their way.’

‘Really?’ Lori’s eyes widen. ‘Well that’s fantastic.’

‘I called them,’ Faith says. ‘They’ll be here as soon as possible. But, we still need to make sure Mitch and Gabriela are OK.’ Her eyes drift up the staircase. ‘I’ll go and check on Mitch.’

Before Alice can open her mouth to suggest Faith shouldn’t go alone, her friend heads up the stairs and disappears onto the shadowy landing.

The silence stretches, tension building, seconds turn to minutes as the grandfather clock tick, tick, ticks into the quiet.

Finally, Alice looks at Lori, narrows her eyes. ‘You said you’ve always hated Flynn House. Have you been here before?’

Lori looks flustered, rubs a hand across her chest. ‘I have, yes. A long time ago.’ She clears her throat.

‘Really?’