She rammed her Mini Cooper into gear as she reversed off her front drive. ‘Sorry,’ she said, as the gears ground. She swore beneath her breath. She had broken rule one and five and she wasn’t even out of her drive.

It felt good to be out and about, and Sarah was looking forward to reacquainting herself with the town she had spent the last twelve months hiding from. The roads seemed busier these days as people were drawn to Slayton, despite the chilly November weather.

As they drove the incline towards town, visitors were treated to a breathtaking view of the lake. Further up was Blackhall Manor, perched high on its hilltop with the woodlands as its backdrop. It overlooked the residents of Upper Slayton and the crop of newbuilds and gated communities that were popping up. Town was centred around one long, tree-lined street with a mixture of chain and independent stores, set back on broad pavements. The train tracks running through the centre acted as a divide between the classes, and every hour, the electric gates rose and fell. Properties on the upper side could fetch tens of thousands of pounds more than their counterparts on the other side of the gates. So while Upper Slayton residents frequented the bistros with their striped awnings and artisan coffee shops, people from Lower Slayton preferred the cheap and cheerful cafés, and livelier music bars.

But one building was the great leveller. Sarah stared up at the police station, a newly refurbished concrete monstrosity which loomed over Slayton High Street, not far from the train tracks. The station flag billowed at the front of the building, above the steps. Sarah drove around to the back and parked in the rear car park, her rusted Mini painfully out of place. The bumped and battered little red car didn’t help her image, but each dent held a memory and she couldn’t bear to part with it. David had always hated it, but to Sarah it was a familiar friend in a chaotic world.

Head up, chest out, she thought, as she slammed the car door. This could either be the best or worst morning she’d have this year. You’ll win them round. She breathed in a lungful of air so crisp it could have been a spring day.

As she gazed up at the four floors of windows, her mouth was bone dry. The last time she was in this building she was escorted out through the back entrance. She gathered up all her reserves before passing through reception. Her arms felt empty, but everything she needed was inside. Everything except for her self-confidence, that was. She needed to bring that herself.