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Chapter 13

Daniel

Chalfont

2^nd January 2018, 5.31 a.m.

It had taken longer than anticipated to drive back to my house and grab the few bits I needed – hoping I wouldn’t draw any attention to myself – before I started the drive to the address Mum had given me. Moving quickly, I had run upstairs two at a time into my bedroom and emptied the money tin that lived in the bottom of my wardrobe. It had around a hundred pounds inside. I had also grabbed the notebook that Katie wrote all my dreams in from her bedside table, just in case I discovered something that linked the dream world that had slipped out in my sleep to the nightmare I was living in now. Foolishly, so preoccupied with collecting the money and leaving quickly, I hadn’t grabbed any warmer or more appropriate clothes. That annoyed me; it told me I wasn’t as focused as I needed to be.