I spoke to Leon briefly. If you need to talk I’m here. And I really hope Mitch didn’t upset you mentioning the Winslows. X

Alice smiles and answers that she’s fine.

A speedy response from Faith:

I’ll be over later to make sure x

Truth is, Mitch had been a complete idiot bringing up The Winslows, and Faith bringing it up again isn’t helping. It was something she would have rather not known, and now they are fresh in her mind once more.

She heaves herself onto a stool, and keys ‘The Winslow Touch’ into the search engine on her laptop. Mitch was right – the couple are all over social media. She adds her father’s name, and finds a YouTube link, hovers her finger over it, biting down on her lip. Does she really want to hear this couple pulling her father apart? No. But her curiosity is too much. She clicks the link.

Dane and Savannah Winslow are beautiful people in their late twenties. They’re sitting on a velvet sofa, holding tall flutes of champagne, and tucking into canapés. Savannah’s red hair is tied in a messy knot; she’s pale, heavily made-up, wearing a sports jacket over a white T-shirt. Dane gives off a sexy vibe, legs spread wide. He’s black, lean, muscular, and wearing a navy, clingy silk shirt.

Alice watches and listens as the duo pull her father’s books apart. She’s heard this kind of thing before. It goes with the territory, her father always said. But then the couple get nasty. Laying into him personally. His appearance – no wonder he was in hiding with those freaky eyes. His personality – he was obviously some total weirdo hidden away like that. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding something dark – really dark, if you catch my drift.

‘Good thing he’s dead, I reckon,’ Savannah concludes, ‘spares us having to put up with any more of his books.’

A lump catches in Alice’s throat, and tears burn when she sees how many people have viewed the post. She glances at the spiteful comments below, the cruel implications, and anger bubbles. But she’s not only angry with this ridiculous couple, she’s also angry with her father for dying. That he left her with so many unanswered questions.

A ping on her phone alerts her that someone has sent her a direct message on Instagram. She opens her account on her laptop.

The message is from someone called Cameron88, and she remembers Faith telling her about the man who bought Gothic House. She clicks to accept the message:

Hello, Alice. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you. I came across your Instagram account quite by chance, when hunting for things to buy for Flynn Hotel, and couldn’t believe my luck when I saw your sculpture. You must have really studied the building to get it so perfect in every way.