Prologue
Caroline parked on the gravel drive and stared at the house. Its charm was instant and disarming; it stole her heart at first glance. She sighed. If only she and Rob could afford something like this. House hunting in Oxfordshire had become increasingly disheartening. Property prices here were far steeper than in Leeds.
As she admired the house, she couldn’t help but recall what her colleague had told her about its history, and she shuddered. Still, that was six months ago. Best not to think about it.
‘The owner wants a valuation,’ her boss had said, handing over the key.
The front garden was wild and overgrown, but Caroline could picture it transformed: flowerbeds bursting with colour, clipped hedges, and a cobbled path leading to a blue front door with a brass knocker and ornate bell.
She slid the key into the lock and stepped inside. The air was cold and stale.Thatwould have to be sorted before any viewings.A warm, inviting atmosphere was crucial, and the musty smell wouldn’t help.
‘Air freshener,’ she muttered, making a note in her planner.
Despite the chill, golden sunlight spilled in through large windows, bathing the rooms in a cosy glow. Caroline caught her breath. The lounge looked like a spread fromHouse & Garden. Whoever had lived here clearly had money and taste. Everything was immaculate. With the furnishings included, the house would fetch a good price and a healthy commission for her.
She stepped further inside, and her heel snagged on the Moroccan rug. She stumbled.
‘Shit,’ she said, and groaned. Kneeling, she smoothed the fabric and tucked the loose thread underneath.
That’s when she saw it: a hatch hidden beneath the rug. Frowning, she pulled it back. A key was already in the lock.A basement?That could be a selling point. She lifted the hatch and flicked on her phone’s torch.
A narrow staircase disappeared into the darkness. A waft of stale air rose up, but as she descended, the scent shifted and became thicker, taking on a sour note. She gagged and pulled her scarf over her nose.
At the bottom, a steel door barred her way. The stench was unbearable now. Her hand hovered above the handle. She pulled. The door creaked open.
She stepped inside and froze.
Something clamped around her throat. Not hands; just a tight, invisible pressure. Her breath hitched, then a scream tore from her – raw and ragged, echoing off the walls.
She ran. Tripping, stumbling up the stairs, and crashing into walls; she barely made it outside. Caroline flung herself into the car. The engine roared as she sped away, but her heart was thundering so hard, it drowned out everything else.
Book One
Chapter One
Joanna
Iclose my eyes and glide through the water. Swimming is my refuge, my release from the relentless pull of gravity, a place where life’s responsibilities dissolve. Usually, it soothes me. But not today.
Some days, an overwhelming dread consumes me, like a python tightening its coils around my chest, squeezing every breath from my lungs. I tell myself it’s irrational, that there’s nothing to fear, that I deserve happiness, but the voice of doom persists. It whispers insidiously that everything is too perfect, that fate is lying in wait, ready to strike. Today is one of those days.
But is my life truly perfect? Or am I blind to the flaws hiding in plain sight? No one’s life is charmed, not when you look beneath the surface. Perhaps I’m afraid to look, or worse, terrified to find that maybe Idohave a charmed life. Why would I deserve that? My stomach churns, and I inhale deeply, mimicking the advice I give Joel when his nighttime fears close in. But Joel is onlytwo, and blissfully unaware of the real monsters lurking in the shadows.
‘That’s me done,’ I say, as I backstroke toward the pool's edge.
‘Yeah, me too,’ Gil replies.
We climb out, grab our towels, and head for the showers.
‘I need to gain some weight,’ I murmur, catching my reflection in the full-length mirror. My small, pointed breasts and flat stomach stare back at me. I loved being pregnant with Joel. It was the one time I had decent-sized breasts. Danny loved them, too. I smile at the memory of him burying his head between them and the scent of his hair gel intoxicating me.
My face is flushed from the swim, and I like what I see: high cheekbones, wide blue eyes, and what Danny calls my ‘cute smile.’
‘You skip lunch too often,’ Gil says, pulling me from my reverie.
‘What?’
‘That’s why you’re so slim.’
