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Back The Sleepover Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PROLOGUE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. EPILOGUE
  69. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  70. MORE FROM KERI BEEVIS
  71. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  72. About Boldwood Books

That was where Rosie saw it, and she was still screaming when Hannah rushed through to the living room, convinced her friend was being attacked.

‘Rosie? What the hell?’

Unable to speak, her screams now turning to sobs, Rosie handed over her phone and Hannah read Lauren’s message, her skin chilling.

Jill was dead. Bright, vivacious and confident Jill Goldberg, who had always been up for adventure, had the brightest smile, and had been so full of life.

It had to be an accident. And it had to be a coincidence.

That was what she kept telling herself as she comforted Rosie, replying to Lauren and then Tash when she commented. None of them mentioned whether they thought Jill’s death was connected to Rosie’s break-in or the incidents that had happened to Hannah, but she knew they were all thinking it.

Numb with shock, Hannah sat with Rosie for a bit, then WhatsApped Josh to let him know.

She decided to tell Liam too, and ask if they could postpone meeting up tomorrow. She wasn’t sure she would be in the mood for talking about the past given what had just happened. He would understand. They could talk again in a few days.

She dialled his number, but it went straight to voicemail, so she asked if he could ring her back.

He didn’t call and, when she eventually heard from him, it was via WhatsApp, his tone striking her as both terse and vague.

Something’s come up and I’ll be away for a few days. Need to reschedule tomorrow. I’ll be in touch.

Okay, so he had cancelled on her.

Hannah sent a brief message back.

No worries. Hope all okay.

She tried to take the message for what it was and not read too much into it, knowing that tiredness and stress was probably leading to paranoia.

By the time she crawled under her duvet, she was exhausted.

The beep of a text came just as Hannah’s head hit the pillow and she reached for the phone, the screen illuminating in the darkness as she opened the message.

Bad girls need to be punished.

She sat up in bed and reached for the light, blinking as she read the message again and trying to ignore the build-up of nausea in her gut.

She didn’t recognise the number and debated for a moment whether to reply or ignore it.

The terminology was pure Mrs W and Hannah could remember exactly when the woman had spoken those words to her, and the horror that had followed.