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Ignoring my stomachs earlier warning, I returned to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before heading to the bedroom to dress.I need to go outside. Remind myself that night turns to day. The sun still rises every morning. Im still alive. I dont know, says Vicky, and its clear shes wondered the same herself countless times. It’s just such a horrid thing to happen. I always thought he was proud of being a policeman but towards the end he’d go on about being filthy, being a beast, being a pig – muttering in hissleep with tears running down his face. He stopped using the communal areas, retreated inside himself … Her fathers large hand clamped onto her arm. Samara shrugged free and turned, still waving the art knife back and forth, uncaring if she struck canvas or flesh. Yes. If theres any chance of doing this peacefully, we have to start here. Eve swallows again. Derrick moves to get her some water from the elaborate bedside table. Pearl sits him back in his seat with one hard look. We have to get out of here. Its your call, Chief. If we go in and he kills her, were to blame. If we wait and he kills her, were to blame. We’re going to have to live with the knowledge of one or the other. Jeren! The road ahead looked long and dark, and I held my breath until I reached the main road. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in my chest as sobs shook my shoulders. I pulled to the side of the road, parked, and screamed. They hesitated, staring at her in her gown and jewels. Then Elayne grinned.We are, Lady Jeren. To the end. Dark and terrible laughter. Like beaks on a coffin lid, says Rowan, broodingly, as the raindrops peck furiously at the roof of the car. Theyve parked with their backs to the fells; looking up towards the grand property with its imposing doorway, great crinkled columns of granite: a crush of dazzling black and white. The lights of a silver Range Rover glare, too bright, through the rain-streaked glass. Rowan closes his eyes but an image remains oddly stamped on the darkness; an ultra-violet outline of a middle-aged man in a baseball cap, fumbling about with the windscreen wipers and headlamps while chatting into a mobile phone. An old, conked-out looking Volvo clatters into a space beside them: a damp clanking of chassis and surging gutters. Rowans happy here, in the dark of the classic Nissan Figaro. Its peaceful. He’d heard some nearby church bells chime a few moments ago; a pleasingly old-fashioned sound, rolling out of somemist-wreathed bell-tower with a low and sonorous authority, shushing the raindrops and the cars like impudent children. He’s content. Maudlin, but acceptably so. He’s beginning to regret sucking down a lungful of Pickle’s finest before they’d bundled him into the car: a downcast figure trudging beneath a big umbrella wearing a newly pressed shirt, good jeans and a crumpled corduroy jacket. They’d even given him a shave. He looks piratical with his sharp goatee, his pupils big Kalamata olives. His heart’s racing. He feels paranoid and nervous. He can feel pressure building in his head.So many problems. So many deadlines. So much money! You’ll fallen so far, lad. How did you fuck it up, howdidyoufuckitup? How, lad? Shan edged nearer to the rocky hollow, wary of starting another avalanche of scree. A dead wolf lay in the narrow space, smaller than Anala had been, and far thinner. As he looked closer, he saw her cubs as well. All still, all dead. Im not but not because my mother didnt try her best. Gabriel glanced at the huge clock on the wall. It was almost noon. Did the department ever try to find the house Dakota went to? And mirrors, Max added. We owe you for the one in the hallway. There had been a fire. Branches blackening around a small, red-gold flame. They had danced, and smoked, and drank. And then he had begun to tell them what he believed. He had begun to talk about his great undertaking. About the journeys. Hisgift. And he had made them drink. Theyd gagged on it, scared and shivering and each wanting the other to do something, to say something….