Hannah Emery

Secrets in the Shadows


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      Secrets in the Shadows

      Hannah Emery

      A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Contents

       Hannah Emery

       Dedication

       PART ONE

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       PART TWO

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       PART THREE

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty One

       Chapter Twenty Two

       Chapter Twenty Three

       Chapter Twenty Four

       Chapter Twenty Five

       Chapter Twenty Six

       Chapter Twenty Seven

       Chapter Twenty Eight

       Chapter Twenty Nine

       Chapter Thirty

       Chapter Thirty One

       Chapter Thirty Two

       Chapter Thirty Three

       PART FOUR

       Chapter Thirty Five

       Chapter Thirty Six

       Chapter Thirty Seven

       Chapter Thirty Eight

       Chapter Thirty Nine

       About HarperImpulse

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Hannah Emery

      I studied English at the University of Chester and I have written stories for as long as I can remember. I love writing about how fragile the present is and how so much of it depends on chance events that took place years ago. My favourite things in life are my family, my friends, books, baking on a Saturday afternoon, going out for champagne and dinner and having cosy weekends away. I live in Blackpool with my husband and our little girl. Find out more at hannahcemery.wordpress.com and follow me on Twitter @hannahcemery.

      For my family: past, present and future

       PART ONE

       Chapter One

       Grace, 2008

      Grace should be with Eliot.

      Grace should be the one to take a bite of Eliot’s toast in the morning, to text him and see what he fancies for dinner, to carry around a solid weight of certainty that he is hers and she is his.

      But Grace isn’t the one with Eliot, and doesn’t know how to be.

      She sighs shakily and glances up as she walks along the promenade to Ash Books. She can barely see Blackpool Tower for the autumn mist. It’s a blue, cool morning and her icy breath streams behind her as she clatters down the glittering concrete. The tide is in, and to her left is the wide expanse of grey sea that she knows so well. Salty spray spits at her and she wipes it quickly from her face, disturbed by what the sea contains. By the time Grace reaches the shop an hour later, her face is stinging with the bite of cold air.

      Even today hasn’t taken her mind off Eliot. She is tired