Falling back a step, I swallowed hard. I most certainly hadn't imagined that one. Hands cupping around my eyes, I pressed my face by the glass, seeking confidence from the fact that I was on the second story, so technically, unless the murder man was part monkey, he shouldn't have been able to get me.

Horror coiled in my gut when it became apparent that there was, in fact, a figure standing below, stood on the grass of our front lawn, looking up. I was about to run away and hope it wasn't too late to save myself when I realised that . . . it was Blake.

My Daddy...