Page 54

I trip as I step back onto the pavement, fall to the ground, and scramble over to the church wall, pressing my back up against it as my vision blurs and goes black.

I’m behind the steering wheel, my hands gripping it so tightly my knuckles are white. The road ahead is dark, illuminated only by the weak glow of my headlights and the occasional streetlamp. Snow falls in thick flurries, obscuring my vision.

The inside of the car is too warm, stuffy with the scent of alcohol and my father’s expensive aftershave.

“Watch the road, Luna,” my mother says, her voice tight with forced cheerfulness. “It’s getting slippery out there.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My eyes flick to the rearview mirror. Dad’s face is flushed, his eyes glassy. He’s muttering under his breath, and I can see Mum’s hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

“I saw the way you were looking at him,” Dad suddenly growls, his words slightly slurred. “Laughing at his jokes. Making me look like a fool.”

“Darling, please,” Mum whispers. “Not now. Luna’s driving.”

But he’s not listening. His voice rises, filling the car. “You think I didn’t notice? You think I’m stupid?”

I grip the wheel tighter, trying to focus on the road. The car feels like it’s sliding slightly, and I ease off the accelerator.

“Dad,” I say, my voice trembling. “Maybe we should pull over?”

He ignores me completely. “Answer me!” he shouts at my mother. “Were you flirting with him? Planning to leave me for that smug bastard?”

“Of course not,” she says, her voice cracking. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve had too much to drink.”

I see his hand raise in the mirror, and my heart leaps into my throat. “Dad, no!” I cry out, turning in my seat.

Everything happens in slow motion. Dad’s hand comes down, but Mum flinches away. He lunges for her, and she presses herself against the car door. I reach back, trying to intervene, my eyes leaving the road.

That’s when I feel it. The car hits a patch of black ice, and suddenly we’re spinning. The world outside the windows becomes a dizzying blur of white snow and dark trees. I hear Mum scream, feel Dad’s hand grasp my shoulder hard enough to bruise.

I turn back to the front, yanking the wheel desperately, but it’s too late. We’re sliding off the road, picking up speed as we roll into a ditch. Through the windscreen, I see the massive trunk of a pine tree rushing toward us.

The impact is deafening. Metal crunches, glass shatters. My body jerks forward, then slams back into the seat. Pain explodes everywhere at once. Something warm and wet trickles down my face.

For a moment, everything is silent except for the hiss of steam rising from the crumpled hood. Then I hear it – a low, pained moan from the back seat.

“Mum?” I croak, my voice barely a whisper. “Dad?”

No response. Just that awful moaning.

I try to turn, to look back, but I’m suspended upside down and a sharp pain is lancing through my neck and back. My legs feel strange — heavy and yet somehow not there at all. Panic rises in my throat.

“Help,” I call out weakly. “Someone help us!”

But we’re alone. No one is coming.

The smell of petrol fills the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. Somewhere in the distance, I hear sirens. Or is that just the ringing in my ears?

I blink, and suddenly I’m outside the car. How did I get here? I’m lying on the cold ground, staring up at the sky. Snowflakes fall on my face, melting instantly. They should feel cold, but I can’t feel anything.

Shadows move around me. Voices shout, but they sound far away, underwater. Blue lights flash, painting the ground in strange colours.

“We’ve got a live one here!” someone yells. A face appears above me, a man in a paramedic’s uniform. “Can you hear me, miss? What’s your name?”

I try to speak, but no words come out. My eyes drift past him, to the mangled wreck of our car. I can see a still form being pulled from the back seat.

No. No, no, no.

I push the vision away but when I open my eyes everything is still black. I’m surrounded by shadows. Cocooning me. Keeping me safe. Steven was the organ player at my parents’ funeral. He saw me at my worst. Injured. In pain. Grieving. And then he sought me out. The day we met in the coffee shop wasn’t a coincidence, it was orchestrated. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was an accident. But he’d have recognised me, and when he did he decided to seduce me.