Chapters (81)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- Forty-six
- Forty-seven
- Forty-eight
- Forty-nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-one
- Fifty-two
- Fifty-three
- Fifty-four
- Fifty-five
- Fifty-six
- Fifty-seven
- Fifty-eight
- Fifty-nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-one
- Sixty-two
- Sixty-three
- Sixty-four
- Sixty-five
- Sixty-six
- Sixty-seven
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Read More
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Follow Merilyn online
- Dedication
I feel Joanne move from my side, but I don’t care. I’m too busy trying to understand why they think I am Eve.
‘Come on, Eve, give me the gun.’ The face has a hand now and it’s reaching towards me. I look at the gun, then back at the hand.
‘Nell?’
Her face is relieved. ‘Yes, Eve. It’s me.’ Her hand gestures towards the gun. I look at Joanne, cowering in the corner of the room. Why did I let her live?
Our lives, Aoife’s and mine, were set out before us from the moment we met. Or from the moment we were born. And even if we’d stood a chance, Alf’s arrival put paid to that.
I’m tired of being angry at the world for letting him near us. I’m tired of the guilt that’s consumed me ever since and the longing I feel to make it right.
I look at Joanne. She looks like Aoife, small and waiflike, with eyes that make you feel you’ve known her all your life and all the others that went before it.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
And then I pull the trigger.
Sixty-five
The pain took a moment to take hold, but when it did Nell grabbed her shoulder, thick, warm blood pumping through her fingers. Joanne screamed and crouched down next to her, eyes on Eve.
‘Get out,’ Nell hissed, ‘get out and hide.’
Joanne didn’t move as Eve walked towards them. Nell pulled herself upright, back against the wall, wincing with the pain of moving.
‘Get out,’ she repeated, trying to form thoughts, trying to judge how long she could contain Eve so Joanne could hide. But Joanne refused to move, as if fear had soldered her to the floor.
The room began to falter. Nell felt Joanne shift away, causing Nell to fall sideways, the movement seeming to shock Eve into action, as if only then remembering she was there. Nell tried to sit. She needed to get to Eve, get the gun.
Beneath them came the sound of a door being smashed open. Eve was standing over Joanne, so close she’d have no chance of survival if Eve pulled the trigger.
Officers shouted words Nell knew but couldn’t hear. The gun was still two feet from Joanne’s head. Steps on the stairs, voices loud, urgent …
‘Room clear, room clear.’
This room isn’t clear, she wanted to shout; this room has a gun and it’s two feet from Joanne’s head. Two feet.
Nell tried to kick, but her leg no longer belonged to her – useless limbs connected yet disconnected.
A black helmet appeared at the door, gun outstretched, a second helmet behind the first, a second gun outstretched.
‘Stop or I’ll shoot,’ the helmet said.
The room shrank further, the floor pulling Nell down as if into bed. Before she shut her eyes, Nell knew three things: