Xmas Break: A Christmas Thriller by J.E. Rowney

Author:J.E. Rowney [Rowney, J.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Isla stayed at the window long after the beam of James’s flashlight had disappeared into the swirling snow, her breath fogging the glass in small, desperate clouds. The darkness outside seemed absolute now, broken only by the reflection of firelight dancing behind her.

She moved to the armchair by the fire, sinking into its expensive leather. The flames offered the room’s only real warmth.

Isla’s gaze drifted to the photos on the side table – the happy couple she’d initially mistaken for Clara and Greg. In the dim light, their frozen smiles seemed almost mocking. The more she looked at them, the stranger it seemed that they were on display. Not a single photo of family anywhere – no shots of Clara and Greg’s wedding day, no candid moments of the sisters growing up, not even one of those awful formal Christmas portraits their mother had insisted on every year. No Mum. No Dad. Just the same couple, repeated.

When had they become so distant that they didn’t even feature in each other’s homes anymore? She remembered the last family photo they’d taken together, four Christmases ago. Clara had been wearing that ridiculous reindeer sweater, and they’d both had too much wine, giggling as they tried to get the self-timer to work. That photo should be here somewhere, shouldn’t it? Instead of these strangers with their perfect poses and meaningful gazes.

Unless...

Isla let out a long breath, watching it fog in the increasingly cold air. Perhaps it was only jealousy warping her thoughts, making her see mysteries where there were none. After all, Clara had always been the one with expensive taste, with the need to make everything look just so. Maybe these photos were merely part of her desperate attempt at perfection.

We have friends who DO things.

We have friends who travel.

We have friends, and we don’t need you.

A distinct thud from upstairs shattered her melancholy thoughts. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she sat frozen in the armchair, straining to hear more. The burning wood popped in the fireplace, the only sound competing with the constant howl of wind outside.

Just the house settling, she told herself. Those perfectly balanced eco-home systems Clara had been so proud to describe earlier must make some noise as they powered down. There was surely a simple explanation for the sound.

Another thud, unmistakable this time.

Isla jumped from her seat and rushed to the window. The snow had swallowed any sign of James and Clara. Their footprints, visible just minutes ago in the glow of James’s flashlight, had already been erased by the relentless storm. She was completely, utterly alone.

The fire crackled behind her, and she found herself eyeing the brass poker in its stand. Its gleaming length looked sturdy, defensive. Her fingers twitched toward it before she caught herself. Don’t be ridiculous, she thought. This isn’t some thriller novel where the heroine investigates strange noises in a dark house during a snowstorm.

And yet.

Her hand closed around the poker’s cool metal handle. It was reassuring, solid. Real.

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