Two pairs of eyes stare right into mine. One pair is the colour of a raging ocean that threatens to drown me and the other is black like the night, engulfing me in darkness.

"Oh... Hi," I squeak nervously.

The cold blue-eyed man steps forward. "Miss, is your mum home by any chance?"

I turn back into the house where I can see the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window. I can see my mother's silhouette there.

I turn to them. "Yes, she's in the kitchen."

"We need a little word with her, sweetie," the second man says. "It won't take long."

I force myself not to ask questions as it will look suspicious and instead lead them into the kitchen. I can see my mother has scraped her hair into a bun and taken out various pots and pans to make it look like she's been cooking this whole time.

"Oh, hello," she says. Her voice sounds genuinely confused. I almost smile at how well she's keeping this up. I see her hands shaking slightly as she takes another pot from the cupboard and that makes my smile falter. "May I help you?"

"Yes, Madam. We need to do a quick search of the house."

Mum's frown gets deeper. "May I ask why?"

The blue-eyed guy looks over to the other one as though debating with him whether to tell us the truth about what the Government are planning.

"It's on the Government orders," the dark-eyed one says. "They need to keep a record of the amount of rooms in each house."

"It's a survey," the other one pipes up, finally grasping the lie.

My mother nods but her eyes are still hard. "Okay. But why on such short notice? And why are you armed?"

I slowly back away, letting Mum play her role as a normal Mum. As the officers are telling her they are patrolling the area (that was a total lie. You don't patrol the area with guns in England, I'm sure) and that the message from the Government was totally last minute, I grab a cookery book on the table and pretend to be engrossed in it.

I mean Jaimie's fifteen minute meals are really interesting.

After that, I play with Maisie for a while, praying that she won't suddenly burst out anything about Dad. When I glance up, Mum has got the other two laughing and loosening up. She turns to me.

"Amelia, escort these two men around the house, will you?"

I nod. Her eyes are warning me as I leave the table as though saying Don't go to the attic.

"You have a nice Mum," the dark-eyed man tells me happily when we're climbing the stairs. I don't know how to reply so I keep silent.

"The attic's locked, sorry," I say instead. "It's been budged for years."

The men follow me around the house, peeking into rooms like they're counting them but I know they're really trailing their eyes around, looking for evidence of people who create weather. When we're done the blue-eyed one stops me.

"Can you show us the attic?" he asks.

"We may be able to fix that door," the other supplies.

"Anything for your mum," adds the first one.

I feel nervous, remembering Mum's warning about not getting too close to the attic. But both of them are looking at me in earnest and I know it'll be too risky saying no.

"Okay, I'll show you."

So, I lead them up the stairs and chant a prayer in my head over and over that goes a little bit like this: Please don't do anything stupid. Dad, please say you locked the door behind you. Please.

I reach the top and look in horror at the sight.

Stretching along the floor is a small trail of ice coming from inside the door, reaching the stairs slowly like fingers. The men stop behind me and their breathing hitch to the same speed as mine.

"Has this always been like this?" one asks. I don't turn round so I don't know which one it is.

My heart deflates and it feels like there's nothing giving me oxygen, nothing keeping me alive because they found a trail. They know there's something going on in the attic.

I swallow, trying to keep the tears down. I try to keep my voice normal and stop it from shaking when I say, "Yes. It's part of the carpet pattern."

One of them bends down and I watch as he runs his hand along the surface. It slips and when he raises his finger, it's completely wet as though he'd dipped it in water.

"I don't think so," he mutters.

The other one moves to the door and tries to shove it open. I expect it to but it doesn't budge. I watch in relief as he tries to force the door open with no success. Meanwhile, the other dark-eyed guy is grilling me with questions.

"Are you aware of any people on the other side of this door?" he asks gently but his words are rushing out like water.

I shake my head.

"You sure there's no one?"

"No one."

"And this door has been locked?"

"Yes."

"On purpose?"

"I don't know."

The other man stops his struggle with the door when he realises it's not going to open. He turns to his colleague.

"There are definitely people in there. I can hear something."

How hard is it to keep quiet for five minutes?

I feel the blood draining from my face. "No, I swear—"

"And you, Miss." He turns his cold eyes to me. "You were aware of this all along, weren't you?"

I feel like wanting to throw up. I let them down. I let everyone down and now they all have their lives to pay because of me.

"No," I whisper.

"You very well know who is on the other side of this door. So, Miss. Please do us a favour and open it. We won't hurt your friends."

"We just need to... ask them a few questions."

The tears are forming now and some threaten to frame the sides of my face. Truth is: I have no idea what to do. I don't know how to open the door—I don't know what Zach and Dad did to it—and I don't know how to get myself out of this situation.

"I can't," I croak out.

A tear escapes and it runs down my cheek, hot.

One of the officers rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth as though about to form words but he closes it again. Unfortunately, his friend fills in the space for us.

"Madam, you will have to come with me."

Another tear escapes as they guide me back down to the kitchen.

"Hey, what's wrong!" Mum exclaims. The officers look at each other as though guilty.

"Madam, we will have to take your daughter down to the police station. She needs to write a statement and confess anything she knows on this matter."

Mum shakes her head, still thinking we're acting. "But she has nothing to say on this matter! She's not guilty!"

"We're not saying she's guilty," the blue-eyed officer says calmly. "We just think she may help us in this investigation. We think she knows things that could help us with a criminal case."

"Criminal case?" I repeat, unable to help it.

"Yes, of Joshua Middleton. Ever heard of that name?"

Another tear escapes. Then another.

Mum tries to plead with them but then eventually she's forced to give up. We've already moved down the hallway and I let them guide me. I ruined things anyway. I have to pay for the mistake I made. I should never had led them up to the attic. I should have been stronger and thought myself a new set of lies.

The officer opens the door and moves to pull me outside when he stops dead. He doesn't move and I can't see behind his head. But all I know is that something is seriously wrong.

"Let her go," a voice growls and I peer round the officer's shoulder to stare at a pair of melting chocolate eyes.

***

Hello guys!

I tried to make this chapter longer than usual. What did you think of it?

Please comment suggestions about what you think will happen next. I need guidance and I LOVE reading all your suggestions about what to do next. I think they're really insightful and help me a lot with writing the story.

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