Her name is Sophie, she’s twenty-two, has always been a city girl and works at the Library in the same suburb Jesse lives in. I make a mental note of this, maybe I could set them up …

I’m about to ask her if she wants another drink before my phone rings. Looking down at the unknown caller flashing on my screen I internally curse myself. I had forgotten all about the fact I was waiting for a phone call. I jump up and toss a twenty-dollar note on the coffee table.

“I’ve got to take this, I’m so sorry,” I say frantically. “Tell Mrs Campbell to put the change in the tip jar for me would you?”

Before she can even respond I answer the phone and run out the door. This is why you don’t have friends Kinsley, you scare them away. Walking in the direction of home, I answer the phone. “Hello, Kinsley speaking.”

“Miss Fallon, my name is George Watson. It’s come to my attention that you have been in contact with a private investigator as of late.”

I wait for him to continue, but the line falls silent.

“Y-yes, I have,” I say, struggling to understand who this man is.

“It’s in your best interest to stop looking for answers. Call off Investigator Stanley and try to move forward.” His voice is cold and heartless.

A bitter laugh escapes me and I slap my hand over my mouth. “My best interest?” I question him. “To just move forward?” I’m starting to let my crazy show and that’s not a good sign.

Just move forward from the death of my parents, my brother? Who is this man? My chest tightens and my heart rate begins to pick up, robotically I’m placing one foot in front of the other, my body trying its best to get me home before my mind takes over.

George sighs on the other end of the phone. “You already have access to the answers that you’re seeking, you just haven’t found them yet.” Before I can even respond, the phone line cuts out. Taking in my surroundings I find myself standing at my front door, I fumble with my keys as I unlock it, close it behind me and slide down onto the cold tiles. A whirlwind of thoughts fly around in my mind, I fail miserably to latch onto any of them. I see black dots in my vision before I pass out. Another anxiety attack pulls me under.

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