SIXTY-FOUR | SECOND CHANCE

The hand reached out again, white against the dark, and rapped on the glass. I drew my hands up, covering my face with my left and preparing to strike with my right. This had to be an intimidation tactic – otherwise, they were giving me all the time in the world to prepare for their attack.

This time, however, a face followed the hand. It peered curiously in through my bedroom window, blue-grey eyes wide and scared. Rosebud lips drew downwards, pulling into a frown.

I stumbled backwards, staring at her as she ran a hand agitatedly through her strawberry-blonde curls. It was Veronica.

It had to be a trap – didn’t it? I inched closer, my eyes fixed on hers. She was crouched close to the windowsill, most of her weight supported by the tree that dangled its gnarled, naked branches across the glass.

I swallowed, my throat tight and my mouth dry. She looked the same as she had before, and