And this time, I can’t ignore it.

I open it with unsteady fingers. Plain white paper with his messy handwriting taunts me.

Remember Muse,

Next time we see each other, either I kill you or you kill me.

20

Aurora

I leave work early.

But I don’t go to Jonathan’s house.

In fact, for a second, I contemplate driving my car to someplace else.

I could go to Wales. Or Scotland.

If that’s still too close, I can go to another country. Pick a place on the map and fly over there.

I can start anew. If I’ve already had one rebirth, I can have another, right?

Only, I can’t leave H&H and Layla and everyone else behind.

I can’t abandon the dream I started with my own hands. I can’t keep running for the rest of my life.

When I walked out of the court hearing that day, I promised he’d never be the master of my life again.

He won’t control my every breath as if he has a right to. As if he owns my life just because he gave it to me.

Every time someone looks at me, I breathe wrong. I watch my surroundings as if expecting the eggs, the slurs, the assault.

“The devil’s spawn.”

“Her father’s daughter.”

“Murderer! Murderer! MURDERER!”

I hit the brakes and place both hands on my ears as if that will stop the voices from screaming louder in my head.

My breathing is non-existent. My heartbeat escalates like a heavy weight is perched on my chest.

No.

No one will find me. They can’t.

Just because the solicitor did, doesn’t mean my past will come rushing back in.

It takes me several minutes to compose myself and drive to my flat. All the way there, I watch the rear-view mirror and over my shoulder, imagining a hand coming out of nowhere.

By the time I reach the reception area, I’m a hot mess of screwed up nerves. My head is crowded with the screams and the cries of the victims’ families, and the way they asked me why.

I didn’t even know myself. How could I answer them?

“Ms Harper.” Paul in reception intercepts me, lowering the volume of the TV.

I come to a halt and plaster on a smile. “Hey, Paul. How are you?”

“Good. Have you moved out?”

“Yes, temporarily. I’m keeping the lease, though.”

“I…see.” He tips his lips up, but I don’t miss the pause. “There’s a new package for you.”

My heartbeat skyrockets with something a lot different than the reason behind the solicitor’s visit.

Alicia’s voice message.

“Where is it?”

Paul retrieves a small box from under the counter like the other time.

I take it with a slight smile. “I’ll drop by to check my mail, but can you call me whenever I get any others?”

“Definitely, Miss.”

“Thank you so much, Paul.” I motion at the empty sofa in an awkward attempt to make conversation. “No Shelby today?”

“He’s not feeling well.” His cockney accent is thicker than usual as he slides his gaze back to the Premier League football game on TV.

I thank him again and count the minutes until I’m in my flat. As soon as I’m inside, I shrug off my jacket, kick my shoes away, and run to my TV. I plug the flash drive in and press Play.

Like the other time, there’s silence at the beginning before Alicia’s voice trickles in.

“I lied to you, Claire, and I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, but I thought I was protecting you. I thought the only way to protect you was to keep you in the dark. Maybe that wasn’t my brightest decision, but I want you to know how much it pains me to have one hair on your head hurt. I hope you forgive me for what I’m about to confess.”

Her voice goes dead.

I skip ahead, but just like the other time, the recording is over.

Damn it.

It’s like whoever sent this is playing a distasteful joke on me.

I slump in front of my TV, the screen blank, and pull my knees to my chest.

What could she have meant about keeping me in the dark? Was it about the devil we both knew? Though Alicia hardly met him. She usually came to me at school, not at home.

Or is this about something else?

I honestly don’t know anymore. I’m too emotionally drained and exhausted to gather any logical thought.

My limbs shake as I recall the solicitor’s visit. Parole. He said fucking parole.

Surely he can’t get paroled after only eleven years.

The dark cloud hovers over me and my fingers quiver as I pull my knees to my chest, grip my trousers, and remain in place like a statue.

That’s what I did that day.

I wasn’t sitting, but I was a statue.

You see, my love for puzzles was my damnation. I shouldn’t have gone to the forest that day. I shouldn’t have tried to figure out Dad’s puzzle.

But I did.

I wore my hoodie, took my bike, and followed close behind, a bit like a detective. I felt so smug at the time, thinking I was Sherlock Holmes or something.

Thinking Dad wouldn’t win this time.

He always said I was an extension of him, and because of that, he could read me better than anyone else.

I was going to prove that I could read him, too.

Or so I thought.

Past

Dad’s truck slows to a halt behind a small cottage. Hmph. He thought he could come here without me right after the business trip he took this morning. Well, he has a surprise waiting for him.

It isn’t the first time I’ve come here. This is where he keeps his tools.

Dad’s a hunter and a mechanic. He likes tools.

Tomorrow, we’ll go hunt again. I don’t really like it when the rabbits and deer die, but I like the stalking, the chase, and the rush of adrenaline.

Daddy says I need to perfect my hunting methods so that I can hit the target like he does.

After all, Daddy is the best hunter alive.

The door of his truck opens and he gets out. I smile with mischief as I hide with my bike behind a tree.

Daddy is a big man with broad shoulders and long legs. He has blond hair and a beard and blue eyes so deep, they’re mesmerising. All the women in town gush after my daddy.

But he’s never wanted to bring me a mum. He decided early on it was only going to be the two of us.