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Authors: James Dawson

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Ms Dandehunt led the three scared youths down G Corridor, ready to face the police. ‘Now, are we all clear on what we’re going to say?’

‘Ms Dandehunt, stop! We have to go after Lis. He’ll kill her!’ Kitty seized Ms Dandehunt’s arm.

Mrs Gillespie smiled, her face ghoulish in the candlelight. ‘You don’t need to worry about Lis,’ she said. ‘A little bird tells me she’ll be just fine . .
.’

Drip

Lis had dozed all through the night, cushioned by the drugs the doctors had pumped into her. It had been a shallow, unsatisfying sleep, fraught with panicky moments where
she’d woken and not remembered where she was. Now it was morning, although it was almost as black as night outside her window. Clouds remained like steel giants in the sky, a stark reminder
of last night’s storm. She was propped up in bed, Sarah’s blonde head resting on the corner of her mattress.

A plump, jolly nurse entered the room and as she did so, Lis glimpsed the fluorescent jacket of the police guard posted outside her door.

‘Good morning, my sweetheart,’ the nurse said in a thick Jamaican accent. ‘You feeling any better? Hypothermia is no laughing matter now, is it?’

Lis pulled herself up, waking Sarah in the process. ‘Yeah, I’m OK,’ she replied.

The nurse smiled. Lis hadn’t seen a mirror, but if the padding across her nose looked how it felt, she didn’t want to.

‘Sorry, Lis, I must have dropped off,’ Sarah apologised.

‘That’s OK, don’t be daft.’ Lis’s throat felt sore. It must be from all the screaming. She dimly recalled collapsing into the arms of the policewoman who’d
found her, although it was all a flashy blur of torches and searchlights and rain. For a brief but terrible moment, Lis had thought they might not find her in the labyrinth of trees and she’d
be left there to die.

The nurse pressed a plastic cup of water into her fingers and watched her swallow some more pills. As she did, the door opened again and Kitty’s father entered, his imposing bulk filling
the doorway. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been with Kitty in the back of an ambulance, clinging to his daughter, hugging her to his chest and kissing her forehead.

The nurse angrily stepped up to him. ‘You leave her alone to get some rest!’

‘I just need five minutes.’

With a frosty glare at Monroe, the nurse left the room.

Sarah gave him an equally warm reception. ‘Do we have to do this now?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ He was so different this time, so much softer. ‘How are you feeling, Lis? Last night must have been awful. Quite a storm, eh?’

Lis just about managed to nod.

‘Well, you can rest now. It’s all over. Mr Gray is dead.’ Was he going to tell her something she didn’t know? ‘You were the only person to see what happened . . .
I’m sorry, I have to ask . . .’

Closing her eyes, Lis saw the same image that had played on a loop all through the night. ‘The weather was so bad. He was chasing me and we fell off the edge. It was impossible to see
where we were going.’

‘That’s what we assumed. Don’t worry, Lis, you’re not in any trouble. The dagger recovered at the school is a positive match to the injuries on Laura’s body. We
can’t be certain it was Gray who used the knife on her, but it had his prints on it. It seems a safe bet.’

‘Good. Did you hear that, Lis?’ Sarah asked.

‘Jennifer Rigg and Daphne Gray are accessories to murder, of course; they aren’t even denying it. Once they’re out of hospital they’ll be detained until trial.’

‘They’re here?’ Lis gasped.

‘No, love. Different hospital in Leeds, and they’re under armed guard, don’t you worry. We haven’t even begun to question them yet. Lord knows what possessed them . . .
but we’ll get to the bottom of it.’

But Lis knew they wouldn’t; somehow Hollow Pike always kept its secrets. She looked over at Sarah who smiled warmly. Her poor sister, what was she meant to make of this mess? ‘What
about my friends?’ Lis asked.

‘Danny, Jack, Delilah and Kath– Kitty are all doing fine. They only had minor injuries. They’ve already given statements.’

‘Can I see them?’

‘No!’ Sarah put in. ‘Not yet. Wait until you’re better. You need to rest.’

Lis saw tears well up in her sister’s eyes. Did she blame Lis’s friends? Did she think they’d dragged her into this mess?

Monroe shifted his enormous frame around her metal bed and pulled up an armchair. ‘Lis, there are just a few more questions. What happened in that classroom? I’ve never seen anything
like it.’

There was a clatter at the window. All three turned to see a huge black shape beat its wings at the glass. The bird’s feathers glistened the colour of sapphires as it perched on the window
ledge.

Hollow Pike awaited her answer. The crow was its messenger.

Lis turned back to Monroe and lied through her teeth. ‘I don’t know. When Jack distracted the others, I just ran.’

Monroe’s eyes bored into her. She noticed that the white parts around his irises had a slightly orange tint.

‘I’m sorry, I just don’t know,’ she repeated.

‘And you have no idea why you and the others were targeted?’

Oh, she had a very good idea. But though the reason was ridiculous, she knew to say nothing. ‘No. They just seemed fixated on us for some reason.’

Monroe flopped back in the armchair, apparently exhausted. ‘OK, last question. We still haven’t recovered Laura Rigg’s diary. Danny Marriott says he dropped it on the floor of
the main school office, but our team has been unable to recover it. Any ideas?’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ Lis whispered.

‘Me too. We might have found some answers there.’ He seemed sad, a knowing sadness. How long had he served in this town? What kind of things had he seen? How many
‘unexplained’ cases? How could the police ever tackle the darkness she’d witnessed?

He stood and shook Sarah’s hand before patting Lis on the shoulder. ‘Get some sleep, Lis.’ The police inspector regarded her thoughtfully one final time, before gliding out of
the room, his long winter coat flowing behind him.

Outside the window, the crow took flight.

A couple of weeks passed in a mix of the hospital’s regime and Sarah’s. Lis was allowed books, magazines, her Nintendo, Max, Logan. She was
not
allowed her
mobile phone, her friends, newspapers, to watch TV. In Sarah’s eyes, she wasn’t ‘strong enough’. Perhaps Sarah was right. The nightmares stopped, but were replaced by an
unnatural black absence when she slept – a peaceful nothingness, worryingly close to her final seconds under the water of the stream. It was too quiet.

Dealing with her mother had been tricky to say the least. Deborah had travelled up from Bangor the day after Gray died, bringing a tide of questions that Lis couldn’t answer. Her mum
blamed Sarah for not looking after her properly, they’d bickered non-stop, and Lis had felt even worse. Things had calmed down by the time Deborah had gone back to Wales for work, but no
doubt the arguments would flare up again when she returned for Christmas.

On the plus side, they were letting Lis go from hospital tomorrow. She’d be home in plenty of time for Christmas. Though once they let her out she’d have to face the journalists, of
course. Sarah said the news people had been camped outside the house.

Lis often thought about Mr Rigg, alone in that enormous house in Upper Hollow. How many TV cameras were pointing at him? That poor man. He’d lost his daughter and his wife. She quickly
turned the page of the magazine she was reading. Every time she thought about Laura, even for a second, a new wave of guilt swept over her. Could they have helped her? Could they have
saved
her? Maybe if Laura had had friends like Kitty, Jack and Delilah – people she could really talk to . . . But she had kept everyone at a distance. In the end, although it was Kitty, Jack and
Delilah who were considered ‘freaks’, Laura had probably been more alone than they ever were.

There was a gentle knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ Lis called.

Behind a towering bouquet of flowers, Ms Dandehunt entered the room. ‘Hello, dearheart, these are from the school.’

‘Oh, thanks!’ Lis smiled. You couldn’t not smile when Ms Dandehunt was around. ‘You didn’t have to.’

Her headteacher sat down in the armchair. ‘Of course we did. I think it’s the very least we could do, given . . . what happened.’

Lis stared at her hands, unsure what to say.

Reaching into her handbag, Ms Dandehunt produced a DVD and placed it on Lis’s lap:
The Crucible
. ‘I thought you might enjoy the film.’

Lis laughed. ‘Just what I always wanted!’

‘I won’t keep you long, Lis, dear. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I know your view of Fulton High School must be astoundingly poor at the moment, but I like to think
that a brave, strong girl like you will be ready to join us again after Christmas. It’d be such a shame to lose you.’

‘I wouldn’t say I was brave or strong.’

Ms Dandehunt’s kind, round face beamed at her and she took Lis’s hands into her own. Her skin was warm and soft, reminding Lis of her old Gran Rushworth.

‘Oh, I would,’ Ms Dandehunt insisted gently. ‘We make ’em strong and brave here in Hollow Pike. You and your friends . . . What you did . . . Quite, quite spectacularly
bonkers! You ought to have your heads examined, all of you – but it was extraordinarily brave and very, very strong.’

Lis choked up with tears. She looked out of the window, sensing some of her birds not too far away in the nearest trees. It was comforting. ‘Yeah, but I’m not from Hollow Pike, am
I?’

Ms Dandehunt stood to leave. ‘Oh, you’re definitely a Hollow Pike girl. It’s in your blood, my dear.’ She gave Lis a tender smile and trundled towards the door.

‘Ms Dandehunt?’ Lis sat up. ‘Did you have a relative called Reginald?’

‘Yes, dear. He was my grandfather.’ She lingered in the doorway. ‘A thoroughly insightful chap.’

‘Who . . .
What
are you?’

Ms Dandehunt smiled an old, world-weary smile, and returned to Lis’s bedside. ‘The most important thing you need to know about me is that, first and foremost, I’m a teacher.
Like any
good
teacher, my priority is to protect the children in my care. Remember this: as long as you remain in Hollow Pike, Lis, there’ll be someone on your side.’

Once more she reached into her bag and pulled out a sprig of lavender, sealed with a black ribbon. ‘Lavender. For protection. Black is the colour of protection, you see.’

‘It was you.’ Lis understood now. ‘You put the lavender under my pillow!’

Ms Dandehunt chuckled. ‘All this started when you arrived, Lis. I don’t believe in coincidence, so I knew you were either Laura’s killer or in danger yourself. When the bird
appeared in your locker, I knew we had to protect you. In the seventeenth century, the Righteous Protectors took to nailing a familiar to the homes of suspected witches. A gruesome practice,
intended to warn people away.’

‘I thought it was you,’ Lis whispered. ‘You had Laura’s diary.’

‘Yes, although perhaps don’t mention that one to Chief Inspector Monroe. I knew what Laura’s death meant. I knew more than the police could ever comprehend – so I took
her diary from her locker.’

‘What did it say?’

Ms Dandehunt turned to the window, just as a ray of weak sunshine battled through the overcast sky. ‘Poor Laura, so lost and lonely. Desperate to know who her real family was, what her
dreams meant. She threatened to run away.’

With Danny
, Lis thought.
Just like she’d said that day on the rugby pitch
. ‘But Laura wasn’t a witch! None of us are!’

Smiling sadly, Ms Dandehunt said, ‘Hasn’t that always been the way though, Lis?’ she tapped
The Crucible
. ‘Paranoia, fear, malicious rumours. Some people
don’t seem to be able to see
who
people are, only
what
they are.’

‘Why did they hate witches so much?’

Ms Dandehunt chuckled. ‘If humans didn’t hate each other so much, what would the papers have to write about?’

Lis felt her cheeks reddening, but she had to ask. She had to know. ‘So you’re . . .’

‘Witches?’ Ms Dandehunt finished for her. ‘If you like, yes.’

‘But white witches?’

‘You watch too much TV, Miss London,’ she said, stroking Lis’s hair.

Lis shook her head. ‘But I don’t believe in—’

Ms Dandehunt put a finger to her lips, silencing her. ‘And perhaps that’s for the best. Is it easier to think of Simon Gray simply as a madman rather than a witch-finder? Will it
help you sleep at night?’

Lis couldn’t answer, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. Ms Dandehunt gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. ‘Sweet dreams, Lis.’

Christmas

Frosty morning light flooded her bedroom, and Lis dived out of bed and headed straight to the mirror to inspect progress on her nose. It was her new morning routine. The
swelling had gone down considerably, but although everyone denied it, Lis could tell it wasn’t its normal shape and size. At least the raccoon-like black eyes had faded. Still, there would be
no family photos
this
Christmas.

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