TWENTY-SIX

EVELYN LOOKED up into the branches of the trees that lined the streets and focused on the pitch of the birdsong rather than the incessant voice of uncertainty that laced her mind.

The house numbers at Rowan streets were mostly hidden behind elaborated railings but as Evelyn's gaze browsed the houses she spotted a luminous gold and white hand-painted sign attached to a stone gate pillar. ‘Rodriguez House’

That was definitely it!

Evelyn inhaled sharply and turned towards the narrow terraced house. It didn't quite look different from the others from the outside. Two stories. Oxblood red brick with tall sash windows and stone window edges.

In two strides she pushed open the black wrought metal gate and crunched her way up a brick and gravel path to a covered porch. The front door was painted in the same creamy white as the window frames and a pair of trees in bright painted pots delivered a splash of welcome green against the dark wood.

Evelyn could hear the rhythm of