Fin sobbed into the bed covers. She didn't understand why he got so mad because she didn't mean to snoop. It hadn't even crossed her mind that it was snooping but the instant she had heard him say, what are you doing, and then looked at him she knew what she was doing was wrong.

She wiped her eyes and thought about what she had seen and read then made a list.

First, Cody looked like he was a twin. She didn't think his last name was Compton. Fin wondered why he wasn't using his proper name.

There was a piece of paper that had the word death on it. A numb nagging in the back of her mind told her she knew the reason for this but no matter how hard she thought about it she couldn't work it out.

Fin gave up and went for a shower because her face was hot and swollen from crying. She would apologise when he came in for dinner.

Steak and vegetables would make Cody happy because he liked steak with mashed potatoes and pumpkin which they had plenty of. She'd make onion gravy and open a tin of peas then make love to him to show how sorry she was.

He didn't come in for dinner. He didn't start the generator and Max was nowhere to be seen. Fin covered his plate of food and put it in the fridge.

Cody smelt the steak cooking. His stomach rumbled because he hadn't eaten since lunch. Saliva trickled from his mouth. He wiped it away with his palm.

The ringing in his head had stopped but he felt like he'd been hit by a train. Cody held his hands out. They still shook. He curled his fingers in a fist and punched his boxing bag. The action didn't stop the shaking, or the war of emotions that raged inside his head. Hurt, grief, mistrust, fear, loss and anxiety all took a turn at controlling his thoughts and his memories.

He ripped open a bag of dog biscuits he had stored in the shed, fed Max then scattered some mash for the chickens, filled their water and collected the day's eggs.

Then he pulled out his camping gear, set up the primus stove and cooked himself some fried eggs.

Cody woke screaming.

The nightmare was back.

Falling...

Falling... with arms widespread.

Forever falling... Eyes wide in shock. Blood streamed from a hole in the middle of his forehead. A loud thud as he hit the ground, his head lolled to one side.

Cody sat bolt upright, his body a lather of sweat. He rolled to one side, hung his head over the edge of the truck's tray and vomited on the ground.

His stomach convulsed again and again long after its contents had been emptied.

The house was pitch black when Fin woke in panic.

The knowledge she had struggled to find in the back of her brain came to her like the sharp jab of a knife and shocked her awake. The man who had taken her wasn't Cody.

Fin curled in a ball. Fear caused an aching pain in her chest.

Cody.

Was.

Dead.

Copyright © 2025 by Donna Fieldhouse. All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblances to actual events or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.