The Serial Killer's Son: A brand new absolutely gripping psychological thriller by Charlotte Stevenson

Author:Charlotte Stevenson [Stevenson, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books - crime, thrillers & mysteries
Published: 2023-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

I collapse into the chair and focus on the camera feed to Miriam’s room. My heart feels heavy, and my eyes are hot and dry. I have to keep reminding myself to blink. Miriam is sitting on the sofa; she lifts her legs from the floor and tucks them underneath her. In the dark, she is ethereal with her movements.

My mind keeps pulling back to Dr Pathirana, and I feel a huge wrench of sadness. I wish my last memory of her wasn’t so negative. I shake my head wearily. I know that I need to put our final meeting behind me. Nothing can be changed now, regret is pointless. Our entire relationship cannot be defined by this one meeting. I sigh deeply. The only healthy thing to do is to erase the events of this evening from my mind. Miriam must be the focus of my thoughts now.

I still have hope for my relationship with Miriam. Although I have been so desperate to have her here, I have not fully formed in my mind the nature of our relationship. I keep struggling with my intentions. The one thing I know for certain is that I need her to stay.

I wonder what we will be. Will we be friends? Will we be family? Will I eventually want a romantic relationship with her? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions and the only option is to take each day as it comes. Our relationship needs time and space to develop organically.

I decide to go and talk to her. A part of me knows that this is a bad idea, but I desperately want to see her. I want to make sure that Miriam is happy and cared for.

I brush my teeth and change my clothes. I can feel my mood improving, the sadness lifting and lightening my body. Already I am feeling more like myself.

I knock on Miriam’s door. “May I come in, Miriam?”

She draws a sharp breath and looks behind me as I open the door. I sense a hint of nerves from her at us being alone. I look over my own shoulder to let her know I have seen her reaction. Even though this is my house, I feel as though I have intruded. Perhaps I have.

“Sorry, Miriam. I shouldn’t have turned up unannounced. I could come back another time if you prefer?” I wait in the doorway. Showing her that I do in fact respect her space and boundaries. She glances and nods at the chair opposite her, and I sit, grateful that she appears calm.

“How have you been, Miriam?”

“Okay, thank you, Monty. How are you?” She is polite but cold. Her expression closed.

I can’t tell what she is thinking. I consider telling her that I am proud of her. I don’t know where that thought comes from and it feels inappropriate. Instead, I say, “I’m sorry if there has been some noise, I had a visitor, I hope we haven’t disturbed you too much?”

She shakes her head and draws her lower lip beneath her teeth.

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