As she stared at her neighbour’s cat, her legs shook and it took her a moment to steady her breathing.

‘You little shit,’ she managed eventually. ‘You scared the crap out of me.’

Lucien blinked at her with bright yellow eyes and circled her legs in response, but when Rosie bent down to make a fuss of him, he darted back into the bushes.

It was just the cat. For fuck’s sake, Rosie. She had almost lost her shit over nothing.

Scooping up her keys, she headed for the main door, formulating a plan in her head: boots off, wee, glass of wine, hot shower.

Her flat was on the first floor and as always she had left the table lamp on, its warm glow welcoming her. Kicking off her boots, her feet silently groaned in relief.

After peeing, she padded across the open-plan living room cum kitchen to her bedroom, hitting the switch. Light spilled onto the room and her attention was immediately drawn to the wall behind her bed, the pretty silver wallpaper that she had paid a small fortune for now covered in crude red paint.

At least she assumed it was paint, the word had dripped down the paper and onto her pillow before drying.

BITCH

Her hand flew to her mouth, partly muffling the sob that escaped.

Someone had been inside her flat.

Were they still inside her flat?

Her legs were shaking, threatening to collapse as she unsteadily backed away, crouching slightly so she could see under the bed. No one was there and the only other place they could hide was the wardrobe. She grabbed the can of hairspray from her dressing table, the nearest thing she had to hand, and approached the mirrored doors, her trembling finger poised over the nozzle.

Breathe, Rosie.

She pulled open the door, a little of the tension ebbing out of her when the interior light came on showing nothing but clothes.

The front door? Had she locked it?

A fresh wave of fear gripped her as she rushed from the bedroom to check, choking out a relieved sob as she realised she had.

She was safe for now.

But how did whoever broke in get inside in the first place?

She glanced at the balcony door, saw it was very slightly ajar. There was no way she had left it like that.

Even as she locked it again, she questioned how safe she was and the sudden panic that whoever had been in her flat might come back threatened to overwhelm her.

Think, Rosie. She needed to call the police. Or Hannah. She would know what to do.

As she reached for her phone, it started ringing. Seeing the unknown number flashing up on the screen, she nearly dropped it. No way was she answering when she didn’t know who it was.

She watched it ring, scared to move her hand in case she accidentally hit answer.