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FORTY-SIX | THE PUMPKIN FAYRE (PART 3)

The scream echoed in my ears, long after the sound had stopped ringing through the meadow. The jovial chatter had silenced, and the coil of sirens was burning through the cold night air.

My breath came in short, quick gasps as I ran. I could feel Skye behind me, could feel his footsteps ricocheting off the pavement as we thundered down the high street.

I needed to know where Kathrena was. I needed to know that she was safe. If she wasn’t – if she was hurt – it would be my fault, all over again.

I’d underestimated the attacker. I hadn’t thought that they’d risk an assault here, not somewhere so public. But, as I scanned through the crowd, pushing against the tide of people, I realised that somewhere public was the perfect place to commit such a crime. They could blend in, merge with the tide like a pebble being dragged across the shore, falling, seamlessly, back into the sea.

There was a huddle of people just past the coffee shop, and I pressed myself to run faster, just a little furth
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