‘You’re a little psycho,’ she cried, still gripping Heather. ‘Where has he gone?’

Heather shrugged. And Flora released her, pushing her hard in the chest so that her sister toppled backwards, landing with a thump on her bottom. Then Flora sprinted across the lawn, faster than she’d ever run in her life, her bare feet snagging on stones and thistles but she didn’t care. She had to catch him.

She spotted him in the distance, just as he was entering the fairground. She tried to call his name, but Flora was too out of breath, too unfit, and the word died on her lips. She panted, clutching her side. Come back! She had no choice but to walk through the fair barefoot. She winced as she imagined treading on gum, sweet wrappers and God knew what else. But she was so desperate to kiss him, to soothe away the sores inflicted by her headcase sister that she would have walked over razor blades if she had to.

Dylan paused at the entrance of the fair, squinting into the sun. He reached around and touched the place on his back, near his left shoulder, where Heather had struck him.

Her poor baby. Flora took a few steps forwards, her breath ragged, still clutching her side, trying to press the stitch away. ‘Dylan!’ she called.

‘Dylan!’ a woman’s voice echoed.

Flora’s voice was drowned by another. A woman, running up to her boyfriend, her love, and jumping into his arms, wrapping her long, brown legs around his waist, her copper curls cascading down her back.

Flora bent over, in physical pain, feeling as though she might throw up as the woman leaned forward, kissing her Dylan deeply on the lips.

She had lost him. And it was all Heather’s fault.

Chapter 35

35

My brain feels woozy. The images of that day are still all jumbled up so that nothing is clear. I just wish I could remember more. Everything aches, my head, my limbs, and I never feel warm.

Underneath all the fear and the guilt, I know that Dylan is to blame. He was the one who caused a rift between us. He’s the one with the secrets.

Unfortunately he’s not the only one. Uncle Leo. My mind keeps going back to him yet I can’t quite figure out why. I only know that he’s an important piece in the puzzle I’m trying to work out in my chemically fogged brain.

Chapter 36

36

Jess

When my alarm goes off the next morning I’m surprised to find myself lying on top of the duvet, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Rory isn’t next to me. I touch his side of the bed, the covers still pristine and wrinkle-free. Did he come home last night? I feel a stab of fear and sit up, blinking in the early-morning light that seeps around the edges of the bedroom curtains, my mouth dry.