Page 75

Jack

I gripped the gate, desperately hoping the footage on my phone was a horrible, fabricated lie. Beyond the flickering lights of the emergency services behind me reflecting off the windows, the front of my house looked no different.

Mike and police officers huddled around my phone, watching the live view of the cameras.

The prospect of what I’d see was too much.

The risk of witnessing the pain of the most special people in the world was too much.

The regret of my last words with Willow, the ones that sat heavily in my throat, was too fucking much.

They mumbled between themselves enough that I couldn’t hear the footage, and for that I was grateful.

A palm landed on my shoulder, but I didn’t turn.

“How’re you doing?” Mike asked from behind me. Wordless, I shook my head, crossing my arms. “They’re sending officers round the back of the house so he’s surrounded. This will end soon.” Lu had joined him briefly, though was ushered back to the house by Mike and officers.

“But at what cost?” I croaked.

Neither of us could answer. We stared at the house in silence as murmurings continued around us. The cool night numbed me from the outside in, the only saving grace considering every nerve ending fizzed with the need to burst from their confines.

“We’ve got movement.”

DS Elms broke the silence from behind me and pushed forward, shoving the phone in front of me. I finally looked at the screen.

Willow stood in front of Fran. Over her shoulder, I could see a look of shock on my daughter’s face. Cain was stumbling backwards, his face hidden by hands.

Suddenly Fran launched herself towards Willow and they both moved towards the door.

My heart jumped into my throat, unsure whether to keep my eyes on the phone or at the door. The hallway camera showed Fran moving quickly to the front door, while Willow kept her focus over her shoulder at Cain, who was hot on her heels.

I heard their voices in duality a split second apart, the tinny version through my phone, and the real, terrifying version.

“Fran, go!”

“No, Willow! You can make i—”

“Go!” Willow’s scream reverberated through the air and phone simultaneously

I stopped breathing as the rattle of the door knob caught my attention. Until now, I could have believed this was just a sick practical joke.

“Jesus Christ,” Mike muttered.

A loud whack echoed through the phone. A scream followed and the door snapped open.

Fran stumbled backwards, whimpering as she mindlessly stepped out of the house. Air was sucked from my lungs as I watched her.

“Francesca,” I whispered, shocked she was in one piece. Like my voice cracked her stupor, she slowly turned to me, eyes wide, and brimming with tears. I inhaled sharply at her appearance – blood trickled from slices across her chest and shoulder, her clothing cut from her shoulder.

“Frannie, you’re safe.”

I held a hand out to her. She rushed to me, and my arms wrapped around her like a vice, I kissed her head and breathed her unique scent that had never really left since birth.

Sobs wracked her body as I held onto her like she was my lifeline.

I’d been right all along. I should never have left my girls alone.

They were the two parts of my heart, and it broke and healed me simultaneously – one had risked her life to save the other.

“You’re okay, love. You’re okay.”

“Willow,” she whispered, and I peered over her head through the open door.

“Come on, Fran. Let’s get you checked over,” Mike spoke softly behind me. The black iron gate opened with a soft squeak as Frannie slipped out from under my arms, seeking medical attention.

Meanwhile, my eyes were glued to the dark shadow of Willow. Her body backlit by the bright kitchen behind her. Even from this distance, her heavy panting was evident as she stared down at the floor.