I still can’t open my mouth. In fact, I can’t seem to move a muscle. I need to tell Celia that her sedative is making me feel extremely strange. That, actually, I’m quite scared. Surely she should be checking up on me, making sure I’m okay. She’s a nurse. I’m her daughter-in-law. But she seems more concerned with Malcolm and his backpack.

Maybe I’m having an allergic reaction to the sedative. Or perhaps I’m simply frozen in shock after finding out about Dina. But this feels like something far worse than that. I can’t move a muscle. I can’t open my mouth. I can barely breathe.

This bridal suite must be jinxed. The last time I stayed here, my sister was murdered. And now something very strange is going on with Celia and Malcolm. What are they doing here? Why are they ignoring me?

Another strange sensation of déjà vu comes over me. Of Celia taking control of another situation. Only she wasn’t with Malcolm that time. I try to catch hold of the memory that’s sitting just out of reach on the edge of my consciousness. And then, just like the last time, it hits me in the solar plexus like a freight train.

Thirty-One

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

It’s hopeless. Toby isn’t listening to me. His hands are still locked around my sister’s neck, choking her. Killing her. I’m screaming for help, so caught up in this nightmare that I barely register someone banging on the door.

When I finally hear it, it feels as if I’m moving in slow motion as I turn and run to the door, almost losing my footing on the wet floorboards. But I manage to fling it wide open, and Celia and Nick tumble into the room.

‘Stop him!’ I cry. ‘My sister! He’s hurting her!’

‘Close the door!’ Celia snaps at her eldest son.

He does as she asks. ‘What’s going on? We heard yelling.’ Nick’s gaze lands on his brother. On Dina as she sinks to the floor, limp as a ragdoll. ‘Toby! Who’s that? What are you…?’

My fiancé stands above Dina, panting, his eyes glazed.

I look at him, but he doesn’t return my gaze, just stares down at Dina’s crumpled form. ‘What have you done?’ I hurry to my sister’s side, crouch down and turn her face to mine. Her eyes are staring, unseeing. My whole body begins to shake uncontrollably. ‘Celia! Celia, I need you to help my sister. Can you save her?’ But even as I say the words, I know it’s useless. It’s too late. Dina is dead.

My mother-in-law comes over and crouches by my side, but she shakes her head.

‘Take her pulse!’ I demand. ‘Give her mouth to mouth! Do something!’