Sarah couldn’t help thinking about the letter. For every day you’re alive the game continues. He’s goading me, she thought. But into what? My suicide would not make an impact on the world. He must want something more. Press attention? Revenge? Or is this all part of some sick game? Her gut instinct nagged that Christian Abraham needed more consideration than police were giving him. She tapped the top of her steering wheel as she worked out an excuse for rocking up at Elsie’s door again. She had promised to help her buy some underwear online. Her car keys jangling in her hand, she approached Elsie’s home with a newfound stride. A puff of black smoke bloomed from over the rooftops as darkness closed in. Someone must be having a bonfire. This year’s Bonfire Night celebrations were muted, apart from a couple of organised firework displays in town.

The front door opened before Sarah got to it. Christian’s hands were full of black plastic bin bags and she watched him stack them outside. ‘Having a tidy?’ she said cheerfully, visiting under the guise of a social call.

‘I …’ Christian said, seemingly at a loss for words. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and there was a dusting of what looked like soot on the leg of his jeans. Sarah walked through the open door before he could stop her.

‘I just want a quick word with your mum, I won’t be long.’ She wiped her feet on the grate before carrying on through to the living room. Unlike the houses in Upper Slayton, this was not a place you needed to take your shoes off. ‘Oh,’ she said to herself, staring at Elsie’s bed which was stripped of its sheets. ‘You have been busy. Elsie? Are you about?’ Perhaps her previous visit had inspired Elsie in more ways than one. The house looked much bigger and brighter, now it had been cleared of all its clutter.

Christian’s shadow grew large in the doorway. ‘She’s not here.’

‘Oh right, has she gone to the doctor’s?’ Sarah said, hopefully. The look on Christian’s face relayed that it was something far more serious than that. She followed his gaze to the empty bed, almost tripping on the cat winding its tail around the back of her legs.

Christian picked up a pile of books from the ground and threw them in a bin bag. Sarah caught sight of The Obesity Code at the top of the pile and sighed. This wasn’t good.

‘Mom’s at the hospital,’ he eventually said. ‘She fell down the stairs.’ Turning his back on her, he carried another two bags outside. Sarah stared, open-mouthed as she digested his words.

No. Surely not. But then Elsie wasn’t steady on her feet. Just getting up the stairs would have caused her enormous effort. ‘How is she? Is she going to be OK?’