My legs remain frozen to the spot. Dread curls at the bottom of my spine.

‘Where’s Callum?’ I ask. My throat is dry, I run my tongue around the inside of my mouth to try and moisten it, but it has little effect. In my head I think Oliver and I are the only two people here and that somehow everyone else in the house has left us, without me realising. I think back to the sound I heard which woke me a few moments ago. Was it the sound of everyone leaving I heard?

Oliver frowns at me. ‘Callum’s in the living room. He’s fine.’

I shake my head. ‘Why’s the door locked? I haven’t been able to get through to his phone.’

‘We lock all the doors of an evening, it’s a security precaution.’ He’s speaking so calmly. ‘And we ask everyone to switch their phone off during the evening so it doesn’t disturb people’s sleep.’

‘My door wasn’t locked, and no one asked me to turn my phone off.’ I edge a little back towards the corridor. ‘Were you in my room?’

He shakes his head. Oliver continues to stare at me with the same neutral expression on his face. ‘No, Danielle, I wasn’t in your room, I’ve been sitting down here for the past half an hour. I suffer from anxiety at night and have struggle sleeping, something I’m sure you can relate to.’

‘Why wasn’t my door locked when everyone else’s was?’ I ask.

‘I’m not sure, it should’ve been; Mary locks all the doors of an evening. Perhaps she forgot as she hasn’t had to lock your door for years.’

‘But then she remembered to lock the living room door?’ I say, unconvinced by his answer.

‘The living room door is always locked after we finish in there for the evening, so she wouldn’t have had to think twice about that. Please sit with me; there are some things I’d like to discuss with you.’ I stand still for a few more moments, our eyes are locked. I move closer to the table, pull out the chair opposite him and sit down. ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asks.

‘No, thank you,’ I say. I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s been expecting me to come downstairs to find him here.

He sighs. ‘Danielle, you have to trust me, we have your best interests at heart here. You’re family. You always have been and you always will be; we would never harm you or your friends.’

‘Can I see Callum?’ I ask. I can hear the plea in my voice as I speak. ‘Please.’

There’s a brief stretch of silence before Oliver nods. He gets up from his seat; the legs of his chair scrape across the stone floor. I watch him walk over to the wall beside the kitchen door and unhook a set of keys that look as old as the house; they're rusted, thick and heavy. I get up and follow him back out into the corridor; he unlocks the living room door, it swings open. My heart’s still beating like crazy. I spot Callum asleep on the sofa at the far end of the room, the shape of his body, rising and falling underneath a blanket. I want to go over to him, wake him up.

‘See, he’s fine,’ Oliver says.

He closes the door and locks it again.

‘Can you not?’ I ask.

He stares at me for a brief moment, before he unlocks the door. I want to go into the living room; I want to be with Callum. ‘Come, sit down, if you’re up to it, we can have a chat. It does get lonely sitting up at this time of the night,’ he says.

Somehow I don’t feel as though I can refuse him. There’s something about his voice. I want to talk to him. I want to see what he has to say. At least I know everyone else hasn’t left me alone in the house with him.

I follow him back into the kitchen, trying to convince myself that Callum is OK, and sit opposite him at the table.

‘What d'you want to talk about?’ I say. I still can’t relax. Although I want to hear what he has to say, every nerve inside me is screaming at me to run out of the room, grab Callum and go.

‘Your future,’ he says, taking a sip of his drink. ‘I would very much like to welcome you back here as a fully-fledged member of our community.’

I shift in my seat. ‘What about my parents?’ I ask.

‘Well, you’re twenty-six now, aren’t you? Surely you must’ve been thinking about moving out for some time, although I know how hard it is for your generation to afford to rent, let alone buy your own home.’

‘I have been; me and Callum have even been talking about moving in together,’ I say. It’s like he can see right through me.

‘I’m sure they’d understand if you tell them you’ve found somewhere and want to move out. You wouldn’t have to pay any bills if you move here, for a start.’

I stare at him. ‘No bills, are you serious?’

He smiles. ‘I am; everyone would be delighted to have you back here. You’re so important to us. Everyone pulls together here, and we all help everyone out.’

I tap my foot underneath the table, I still haven’t found out much about my parents and my brother, and what our lives were like when we were living here. I haven’t really had a chance to speak to anyone else, other than Mary, individually.

‘I . . . it’s something I’ll have to think about, I can’t just rush into this,' I reply. 

Oliver nods and picks up his drink. ‘Of course, I totally understand. You can either contact me or Jeremiah when you feel ready to come back; I’ll give you my contact details.’

I sit back in my seat and imagine what life would be like living here. With very few memories of what my life was like here before, it’s hard to picture it.

‘But I . . . Oliver, I came here looking for answers, I want to find out why Harvey killed my parents. He told me if I came here I would get them.’ I force back the tears that threaten.

Oliver shakes his head. ‘I can’t imagine the pain you must feel, believe me, Danielle, the pain of not knowing why he did it has driven me crazy for twenty years, so I understand what you’re going through. But believe me, Danielle, if you come back here, you will find a community ready to welcome you with open arms, everyone here will love you unconditionally, and perhaps then you’ll find peace.’

I replay his words over in my mind. There must be something more he can tell me about what happened, surely. ‘I think I’m gonna go back up to bed, if that’s OK,’ I say, faking a yawn. I get up from my seat. I need to get out of here.

‘Of course, Danielle, we can talk more about this in the morning.’

I nod. ‘Night, Oliver.’

I leave him in the kitchen. Even as I walk back down the hallway, I can feel his eyes on me, seeking me out in the dark. I think again of the imprint on the second bed in my bedroom, making me think someone had been sitting there, watching me. I have no doubt about it that it must’ve been Oliver sitting there, no matter what he says. I climb the stairs and return to my room, willing the morning and the light to come.