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I try to shake off the sensation, but something tells me to tune into it instead of out of it so I close my eyes.

Tell me where he is…

I don’t even know who I’m speaking to, but as I ask the question, a vision forms in my mind. Behind my eyes. Everything is black. Black as shadow. But the shape of Steven is moving through it. Shaky, like he’s a moving x-ray instead of a person. Other things form, too. The outer wall of the mansion. The tree he stops beside. The rock he’s picking up.

I point at the window and seconds later the rock hits it.

It bounces straight off, but makes a loud noise that causes Kim to jump.

“You knew he was going to do that?”

“I saw it.” I turn to him. My eyes are open now but I can still see the darkness and the moving shapes. “It’s like I’m…” I flex my fingers, pain travelling in lightning forks down my arms into my hands. “Like I’m inside the shadows. I can see him. He’s going to throw another one.”

“Lucien has a panic room. I don’t think Steven will get past the reinforced glass but we should⁠—”

I shake my head at him. I’m shaking all over but not because I’m scared; because I’m angry.

In fact, I have never felt so much anger in my life.

I am heading for the door. I pull it open, even as Kim reaches for my elbow, and storm down the corridor.

Where the shadows propel me forward, they trip Kim up and prevent him from stopping me.

I am heading for the conservatory. And so is Steven.

18

Luna

ONE YEAR AGO

“I’m just trying to say, Steven, that I’m a bit lonely now I’m not working.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and look up at him. My wine is getting warm. I’ve barely touched it but he’s on his third pint.

The pub is too hot. We’re next to the fire and while it should be cosy, it’s not. It’s raining outside, and there are Christmas lights everywhere, and we should be cuddled up next to each other talking quietly into each other’s ears, enjoying being in our little bubble in a room full of people.

Instead, we are sitting opposite each other and he’s leaning onto his forearms and staring at me as if he’s interviewing me for a job.

I feel self-conscious. He keeps looking at my boobs and somehow it feels disrespectful, even though he’s my boyfriend.

I pull my cardigan closer, but I’m not cold.

The fire is too hot. And it seems to be getting hotter.

“Lonely?” Steven sits back in his chair now and frowns at me. A smirk tweaks his lips. He shakes his head and sighs as if I’ve said something funny. “Do you know how many women would give their right arm to have what you have?” His look changes now. Hardens. He frowns at me and leans forward.

He takes hold of my hand and squeezes it. Too hard.

It hurts, and I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let go.

“Do you know how many women are out there right now looking for a partner who will support them the way I support you? Who will take care of them the way I take care of you?”

“I...”

“When you got sick, I didn’t hesitate. Instantly, I told you to quit your job. I offered to look after you. Pay for everything. I didn’t even think twice. Told you to stay home as long as you needed to.” He pauses and his expression softens. “Have I ever made you feel guilty? Have I ever put pressure on you to go out there and work again? Have I, Luna?”

“No, it’s not about that, though, Steven, what I was trying to say was⁠—”

“Have I not given you everything you need? I pay for the food, the bills, the rent. I give you money to buy clothes, I buy you books, I pay for that gym membership you never use—” He rolls his eyes and casts a look at my stomach.