Holly took her iPhone from her back jeans pocket and looked at the display.

She had until sunrise. That was just before seven. Eight and a half hours, and Maggie Walsh was now locked away, out of her reach. Her rubber-clad hand shook as she checked to see if there were any other text messages for her to open. Nothing.

Her throat ached from Maggie’s blow and adrenaline rushed through her, but she could feel the beginnings of hesitancy taking hold and couldn’t allow that. Maggie had to be dead when she left the house. It was her or Abigail. If a child had to be orphaned, it would be Maggie’s. Holly couldn’t leave Abigail in the hands of that man for one second longer than she had to.

She’d tucked herself against the banister in case Maggie tried to shoot her through the door. The snow clumped against the skylight above. Where had her carving knife gone? She peered over the darkened stairs but couldn’t see a sign of it.

‘So how close did you get to calling the police?’ the voice from the bedroom asked.

Holly knew Maggie was playing for time. Trying to engage her and talk her out of what she had to do.

‘Bet you he’s told you what would happen to Abigail if you did that…’

Holly’s stomach shrank every time she thought about what he’d said in his text message. No cops. Abigail’s life depends on that.

Holly hadn’t considered involving the police since she’d received it.

‘Speak to me.’

‘Shut up!’ Holly put the phone away and tugged down her hood. Her curly, auburn hair was tucked inside a black wool watch cap, and her head was sweltering hot. She couldn’t remove it though. Didn’t want to leave any strands inside the house. She’d bought all her clothes with cash from an army surplus place outside of town. The jeans, the boots, the black pullover and waterproof navy poncho, Holly was going to burn them all as soon as she was done, just like she’d been instructed.

There was no choice. If she wanted to see Abigail again she had to do the unthinkable.

‘I picked up the phone to the police. Must have been four times I nearly dialled the number. But neither of us can do that…’

Holly had to ignore her voice. Whatever Maggie said to her would be in the interests of protecting her own child.

‘I know you’re probably more scared than I am right now…’

Holly was petrified. Briefly, she’d thought that Maggie had been part of some obscene prank. That Holly was being tested and that Abigail would be returned as soon as she’d proved her intent to carry out murder. But even though Holly clearly wasn’t about to be released from what she’d undertaken, Maggie Walsh had given her a glimmer of hope. If she was telling the truth, she’d done the same. Been threatened and manipulated by the man at the end of the phone. And she’d had her child returned to her.

‘Yes. I am scared,’ Holly answered her. ‘Weren’t you?’ She had to know how it was possible for Maggie to have done something like this. She waited for her response. Eager to hear it, even though she had to dismiss everything she said.

‘I was paralysed. It was like I waited outside and watched myself walk to the back door. I don’t even remember breaking the glass. I tried to bypass my emotions. Tried to forget my family and friends and not think about how they would perceive what I was doing.’

Holly closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘Even though that’s what you’re trying to make me do.’

Penny grumbled behind the panel.

‘She’s getting hungry,’ Maggie informed her. ‘I’m going to have to breastfeed her.’

Holly felt her maternal instincts trickling through the intensity of the moment. She fought against them.

‘I can still do it and hold the gun on the door.’

Holly was sure it was part of Maggie’s strategy. She had to repel the image of her breastfeeding Penny. If she delayed much longer she could never bring herself to do it. And that meant she’d never be able to breastfeed Abigail again.

‘Just wait.’ Maggie seemed to sense Holly’s thought process.

Holly pulled out a Browning Buck Mark Camper handgun and pointed it firmly at the door handle.

‘Hear me out.’

Holly’s father had always owned guns and taught her how to squeeze the trigger when she was fourteen, but she had no experience of the weapon she’d bought less than twenty-four hours before she’d broken into Maggie’s house. She’d decided to bring it along as backup. Was it really possible to shoot off the lock? That was something she’d only seen in movies. Would the bullet ricochet around the landing and kill her? And she didn’t want to endanger Penny.

Perhaps her only way in through the door was to repeatedly kick it down. But then Maggie might shoot her through the wood. That’s if she actually had a gun. After her offer to send her an image, however, she guessed she did. Or did she know that Holly would never agree to trade numbers?

‘There is another way out of this.’

Of course she’d tell her that.

‘I found it.’

Holly could boot once and hard under the handle, use the bathroom as cover and see if Maggie pulled the trigger.

‘I didn’t go through with it… I didn’t murder anyone.’