She grinned, then paused, the glass halfway to her lips, as the curtain covering the doors to the balcony moved in the breeze. She put the glass down and walked across the room. She wouldn’t have left the doors open; it was so cold, they were almost always closed anyway.

To the left of the door was a console table; on it was an iPhone, plugged into her own charger.

The pink trim of the case caught her eye, and a chill travelled up and down her spine.

Paula’s phone. The one she had thrown away in the forest.

The curtain flapped again, making her jump, and an icy rush of wind blasted into the room.

Time hung, suspended, loaded, the tension palpable in the room. A second that stretched on. One sudden single movement, and then the attack came.

How long can you hold your breath?

Can you wake up now?

Do you see where you are?

Paula parted her lips and said, ‘Are you talking to me?’

The words emerged in bubbles, and water streamed into her mouth and down her throat.

She screamed. It made it worse.

The voice that had spoken to her so urgently vanished as the last few moments crashed back at her.

She was under the ice; not just in the hole, but shoved under. The top of her head nudged it gently, and through the water she felt it burning her scalp. She raised her hands and her knuckles grazed something solid. She turned them palms up, hissing out more air as the ice above her held firm.

Air.

She was running out. She had wasted previous breaths. Her lungs juddered and burned, the feeling of a freight train within her.

How long did she have?

Not long enough, and the thought was strangely calming. She relaxed her shoulders and withdrew her hands. She had come in through a hole in the ice, and there were no tides here – this wasn’t the ocean, it was a lake – so she couldn’t have moved too far from there. The hole hadn’t closed up in the last few seconds. It was here somewhere.

A shadow fell, and she tilted her head back. Terror ran through her veins, replacing the calm of just a moment before as a figure moved above her. Through the thick ice she saw the boots, the legs, the person they belonged to moving steadily over her. She curled her hand into a fist, but before she could smash it above her to get attention, she stopped.

Anna.

It took an astronomical effort to stem the panic, and even though time was against her, she remained motionless. If Anna didn’t think she was already dead, she would come back to finish the job.