‘I’m with you on that,’ Alice says. ‘I keep wondering if Cameron brought us all here for a reason. I wonder if … well … Hugh Flynn looks so much like my father, and I know so little about my dad’s past.’ The words are out there, swirling like toxic fog in the air. The fear that had been burrowing away, that her father, the father she has always known as Adam Hadley, had lived in this house as a boy and as a young man, and never told her. That he had a sister he never mentioned. But if that was true, why had he kept it from her? Why had he changed his name? Why had he kept his past hidden?

Faith leans over and touches Alice’s hand. ‘Is this to do with the portrait, sweetie? Because, the resemblance could be coincidental.’

‘Maybe.’ But Alice is sure there’s more to it.

‘Lori said she worked here as a nanny, didn’t she?’ Christine says, cutting through Alice’s thoughts. ‘But I have no connection to this house that I’m aware of, unless you count that I lived on the mainland all my life.’

‘And what about the Winslows?’ Alice says. ‘And what possible link could Gabriela have to Flynn House? I mean, she’s Eastern European, doesn’t speak any English.’

‘Cameron doesn’t know about her. She only arrived on Thursday. He left money in the safe to use for anything I felt I needed, so I took her on cash in hand.’

‘What about Mitch?’ Alice goes on.

‘And me,’ Faith says. ‘I only decided to come at the last minute.’

Alice shakes her head. She feels like crap, her temples pounding, her body so tired it aches. ‘I don’t know, perhaps I’m wrong,’ she says, sounding defeated.

‘Maybe we should try to get some sleep,’ Faith says. ‘I know it won’t be easy, but if we all have a little power nap.’

‘OK. But one of us should stay awake,’ Alice says. ‘Just in case.’

‘Nobody can get in here.’ Faith leans over and grabs a throw from the bottom of the bed, covers herself with it, and shuffles down in the chair. ‘I’ve pulled the bolt across. We’re safe.’

Christine removes her glasses once more, and eases down the bed, curls her legs up like she’s a foetus.

Alice wants to say, But what if it’s one of us? She hates that she’s even considering her friend as a possible killer. ‘I’ll keep an eye open, all the same,’ she says. ‘You two can go to sleep if you want.’ A redundant comment, as both Christine and Faith have closed their eyes. Alice’s eyes are gritty and sore, her lids heavy. She’s exhausted, but her body buzzes like a beehive. She’s not sure she’ll sleep.