don’t talk to anyone about this. Especially the police. Don’t tell them I was here, don’t tell them about Dad’s place in Chalfont. Just tell them your car has been stolen, okay?’
‘Okay, but why are the police going to be looking for you?’
‘Because Sean is dead. Because Rachael and Thomas are missing and I’ve taken off in the middle of the night. Because I’m going to be their prime suspect.’
Daniel
Chalfont
2nd January 2018, 5.31 a.m.
It had taken longer than anticipated to drive back to my house and grab the few bits I needed – hoping I wouldn’t draw any attention to myself – before I started the drive to the address Mum had given me. Moving quickly, I had run upstairs two at a time into my bedroom and emptied the money tin that lived in the bottom of my wardrobe. It had around a hundred pounds inside. I had also grabbed the notebook that Katie wrote all my dreams in from her bedside table, just in case I discovered something that linked the dream world that had slipped out in my sleep to the nightmare I was living in now. Foolishly, so preoccupied with collecting the money and leaving quickly, I hadn’t grabbed any warmer or more appropriate clothes. That annoyed me; it told me I wasn’t as focused as I needed to be.
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