Chapter 8

Rachel's gone. She left a few hours ago, and I’ve just been sitting on my new bed, with its itchy, hand-knitted blanket irritating my legs ever since. But I don’t move, or take the blanket off because I want to feel it; the scratchiness against my skin.

I know that sounds weird. I know it’s some strange form of self-sabotage, and I should just accept that this is my life now, move the blanket, and get myself comfortable. But I don’t want to feel comfortable here, in this room, this house, or even this village. And the itchy blanket is just a reminder that this isn’t my home.

I don’t belong here.

I want my old room back, with my dinosaur wallpaper and my double bed. It was twice the size of this one.

A knock interrupts my thoughts, and I’m about to call out, to tell the person on the other side of the door to go away, when it opens and Eli walks in. I glance up from my phone, clutched in my hand, as he walks over to the window and leans against the sill. <