‘Get your shit together,’ Sarah told herself as she packed a rucksack. The thought of revisiting Blackhall Manor made her stomach churn. The weight of her stab vest offered a little reassurance as she tightened the Velcro straps. She tugged her coat over it, covering up the fluorescent police badge on the back. She had an idea of who she was meeting, but she didn’t want it to be true. Because there was something else that Elsie told her in the hospital. Christian had needed support growing up. It had come in the form of the big brother scheme. It was something social services made use of when dealing with boys who needed a male influence in their life. For Christian, the scheme had worked well. His ‘big brother’ met him regularly, providing guidance and support. According to Elsie, he’d looked up to him as a teen. Had their friendship been reignited? Was Christian an unwilling accomplice to the Midnight Man’s crimes? It would explain how he had gained access to her home and Christian’s car. But evidence had been planted. Had the Midnight Man turned on him? Sarah hadn’t shared her suspicions as she didn’t know his motives. But also because the person she suspected was her friend. A man with two faces. One good, one bad.

As she drove down the lonely track to the house, she waited to hit the pothole which signalled her arrival. But this was years later and the bump did not come. Brambles scratched against the metal of her Mini as it juddered along the bumpy path, and she flicked on her wipers as a thick mist enveloped her. She turned on the car heater, only to be rewarded with a blast of cold air. The sight of Blackhall Manor from a distance had been enough to raise a chill on her skin. Now she was frozen to the core. It wasn’t just the house. It was the memory of her family. All these years she had blamed her father for taking her family away. Now she was not so sure. Perhaps it was time for the ghosts of the past to be set free.

Pulling on her car handbrake, she stopped at the tall wrought-iron gates. They gaped open in a chasm of darkness, the thick padlock that usually secured them hanging from one gate. The Manor loomed above her, cloaked in mist. ‘C’mon girl, we can do this,’ Sarah whispered as the engine rumbled in protest at having to take the hill. Curling her fingers around the freezing steering wheel, Sarah negotiated her car up the weed-choked path. The house seemed as big as ever, its cracked windowpanes gazing down upon her with black, soulless eyes. Sarah parked her car ready for a quick getaway. She prayed Jahmelia would be with her when she left.