Chapter Forty-one

Katie drove through the winding roads north of the city.

There seemed to be little around her but empty fields and trees. She passed a few abandoned buildings. They were relics of a forgotten era: cottages and farmhouses that were so broken down now they might as well have been cairns of rock by the roadside. Aside from those, there were no distinctive features to the land. It was a world of endless fields dotted with distant clusters of trees that seemed as small as toys. Perhaps it would have been idyllic here in spring or summer, but right now the sky above was a vast canopy of gray-black clouds that seemed to be drizzling darkness.

She was about halfway there when she made a decision and pulled over.

She got out of the car and was immediately shocked by the coldness of the wind. The hedgerow beside her was shivering from the force of it. But if she was going to go through with this meeting, there was something else she needed to do first. So she took a deep breath, turned her back to the wind, and then switched on her phone. There were numerous voice mail messages waiting for her. She scrolled down the list. Most of them were from Sam, but there were several from what she assumed must be the police.

She clicked on the list of contacts and found her husband's number.

He answered the call immediately.

"Hello?"

Her name must have come up on his screen, and yet there was such desperation in his voice that it was as though he didn't quite dare to believe it was her. It broke her heart to hear him like that. And to know it was her fault—her responsibility—that he was going through this.

"It's me," she said quietly.

"Katie. Oh God. Where are you?"

She looked around. Having relied on the GPS to take her this far, she couldn't have told him even if she'd wanted to. But, of course, she wouldn't tell him anyway. That wasn't why she'd stopped to make this call. She was phoning him because she was scared. Because she needed to tell him something. And most of all, because she wanted to hear his voice again, even if it was for the last time.

Where are you?

"I'm not sure," she said.

"The police are looking for you."

"I know."

"They were here this morning."

She hesitated. "Are they there now?"

"No. They haven't been back yet. It's just me and Siena here."

The mention of her daughter's name sent a crack through her heart. For a moment, she was desperate to speak to her, but she also knew that if she heard her voice she wouldn't be able to go through with what she had to do. If Sam asked her to come home she would still have the strength to refuse him.

But not Siena.

"Did the police say why they were there?" she asked him.

"They said you broke into Michael Hyde's house and attacked him."

She waited.

"They said you claimed he'd been stalking us."

"I went to his house," she said. "There were photographs on the wall there. Sketches. Plans. I think he was after Siena. But his father must have taken them down before the police arrived, to protect him, and I don't think they believe me. And I know you don't either. But I need you to, Sam. It's so important."

He hesitated.

"I'm actually not sure what the police believe right now."

"But what about you?"

Silence on the line again. He still wasn't sure. He didn't want to tell her that and have her hang up on him, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her either.

"Please just come home," he said finally.

"I can't."

"Why, Katie? What are you doing?"

And again, she wouldn't have been able to tell him even if she'd wanted to. Where was she? What was she doing? There were basic, everyday answers to those questions, but right now they landed on a deeper existential level. She felt unmoored and adrift on currents she did not understand.

The wind changed direction. She turned her body against it.

"Listen to me," she said. "I need you to believe me."

"I do."

"No—don't just say it. Because Hyde might come back. He might still try to hurt Siena. In fact, I'm sure he will. He's fixated on us for some reason. And when he does, you're going to need to be ready for him."

Another moment of silence. And then the implication of what she'd just said dawned on him.

"But what about you?" he said.

She swallowed.

"I love you, Sam. I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be," he said quickly. "No. You should not be sorry at all. I'm sorry. I love you so much. I always have. I haven't said that enough recently."

"I know. Just the same. But there's something I have to do."

"Just come home to us."

"I'll try," she said. "I promise."

"Wait. Siena's here—"

"Give her a hug from me, then," she said. "And tell her I love her very much."

Sam started to say something else, but she moved the phone away from her ear and his words were lost in the wind. She canceled the call and turned off her phone.

And then she stood beside the car, her palm pressed to her forehead, sobbing.

It wasn't wise. If another car came along, the driver might notice and stop to help. But the tears came anyway. She wanted so badly to be back with her family where she belonged. It was easy to imagine how confused and upset Siena must be, and she already knew how frightened Sam was. But it also felt like her course had been set and there was no escaping from it now.

Perhaps that had always been true.

After a minute, she calmed herself down and got back in the car. Jack Lock's book, still wrapped in its protective packaging, rested on the passenger seat beside her. There was a sense of malevolence to it. It was just a book—the fantasies of a madman—but it was still hurting people after all these years, and through a chain of cause and effect she couldn't fathom it had made its way into her family's life and was continuing to spread its poison.

Just come home to us.

Katie started the engine and set off again.

I'll try, she thought.

I promise.