But there it is, in bold lettering at the top of the page. Three words. The name of my life raft.

HOLLY MAZE HOUSE.

And I realize as I make a note of the viewing instructions that Mum has done it again, she has reached out just when I needed her most.

32. Now

I open my eyes to thick, velvet darkness. My head is throbbing and the ground beneath me is hard and cold.

Blinking, I press my hands against the floor, try to haul myself up, but my body feels like lead. The events of the morning come back to me in fractured images: white stucco houses rising up around me, a tabby cat lolling in the sun, Lottie’s text message and Connor running after me down the street.

He’s taken me somewhere, though in this half-light I can see only the outline of the room. Tall shapes rise up like distorted sea monsters, the air smells stale and fetid. I have to get to my feet, have to try to find my way out of here. I press down on the heels of my hand but my arms won’t carry my weight and I sink back down on to the hard floor. My heart palpitates with the exertion. I try to breathe slowly, try to calm the panic that is twisting up my insides.

I’m on my second deep inhalation when I hear something, footsteps coming towards me. I crouch into a ball, a defensive posture that I realize is pointless. I hear the sound of curtains being pulled back then a sharp strand of light cuts across the floor.

I feel a presence bearing down on me, the sound of shallow breathing. I pull my hands over my head and pray to my mum to keep me safe.

‘Come on,’ he says, his voice muffled. ‘You don’t have to be scared of me.’

I feel a hand on the scruff of my neck then he slowly pulls me up. I instinctively look down at the ground, but he takes my chin and lifts my face to his.

I scream.

‘Shh,’ he says, putting his hand over my mouth. ‘I told you. There’s no need to be scared.’

He is dressed all in black – a long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans and a balaclava with holes for his eyes and mouth.

‘Why are you doing this?’ I ask when he takes his hand away from my mouth. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘We’re going to have a little adventure, just the two of us,’ he says, his voice muffled. ‘A little explore. You see, I know your secrets. The ones you tried to hide from everyone. The fact that you like looking at houses, other people’s houses that you can’t afford. Nosy little so-and-so, aren’t you?’