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“Can I take your name, please?”

“Robert Sinclair.”

“Address?”

They ask far too many questions before I’m able to explain that Shane might be here, and that I think something has happened to my best friend and his boyfriend.

“Someone’s on the way. Please do not approach Shane. Wait for the officers to arrive.”

Yeah, right.

“Come on.” I grab Noah by the hand and pull him out of the house.

“She said to wait!”

“I don’t give a shit what she said, I’m not waiting in that house for God knows how long. We’re going to find out where the fuck Theo and Bailey are.”

NOAH

We go to the farmhouse first to check that everyone else is okay, and to tell them what we know. When Robbie mentions Shane, Theo’s parents react instantly. Ellen explains that Shane is Bailey’s twin, and that Bailey was escaping a bad situation at home when he came to live with them.

I knew about Bailey’s mum and stepdad, but I don’t understand why he never mentioned having a twin brother.

Robbie’s told them at least three times now that the police are on their way, but they’re still talking and I’m getting impatient. The familiar electricity that constantly hums under my skin feels worse than ever before.

I tug Robbie’s arm, trying to silently communicate that I want to leave. We can’t stay here—Shane is wanted for numerous murders, and he has Bailey. I don’t know what I’ll do if we find them, but I need to move.

Robbie makes excuses to leave, then pushes me back out the door. He grabs my hand, and I let him drag me to the barn where Richard and Isla had their wedding reception just days ago. The tables have been cleared away, and the space is completely empty, so we move on to the next barn. Then the sheds and the stables, working our way across the farm.

“What if he took them somewhere else?” I ask, my stomach twisting into knots the further we get from the farmhouse and Theo’s cottage.

“I don’t know. All we can do right now is search here first, okay?” His hand squeezes mine in reassurance—something that would normally make my skin crawl when I’m stressed. Instead, it centres my focus, and I feel safe. I concentrate on his large hand engulfing mine and the heat radiating from his palm as we search another shed.

Sirens suddenly fill the crisp morning air. It should bring me comfort, but it ramps my anxiety up tenfold, because it means this is real. My best friend is gone.

What if we’re too late?

I squeeze Robbie’s hand hard.

“It’s okay. We’ll find them, and it’ll all be alright,” Robbie mutters.

When we approach the last of the hay sheds, the door is ajar.

“Yes!” someone shouts from inside. “You were always so bloody good. You’d play quietly by yourself, ignoring me all day, and then when I’d take away your toy so that you’d pay attention to me, you’d get upset. And who would come to your rescue?”

I look up at Robbie, fear hooking its claws into my chest. I don’t recognise the voice. My feet are frozen to the ground as we stand by the door.

“I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to know what it would be like to make you bleed—see how far I could push you before you cried out. It got to a point where that need boiled over, I had to do something or I would have burst out of my own skin.”

Fuck this. I shake Robbie’s hand from mine and take a step forward. I want to get to Bailey. Want to know if he’s okay. I need⁠—

Robbie grabs me around the waist and slams a hand over my mouth. I struggle in his hold, kicking at his shins and scratching his arms until there’s no energy left in me, and I collapse against his chest.

The jarring sound of police radios comes from behind us, followed by heavy footsteps as officers with firearms come into view. I can’t focus on what they’re asking, or what Robbie tells them, but I feel the vibration of his voice at my back. He pulls me out of the way so they can get to the shed door.

Once we’re far enough away for the police to be satisfied, Robbie’s hand slips from my mouth.

“Rob, let me go!” I gasp. “They won’t know which one is Bailey. Let go!”