Run Away Read Online Free Page A

time she’d seen him. “How you holding up?”
    “I’ve been better.” She hugged him quickly—­and awkwardly—­then climbed into the backseat of the car, her wet hair dripping onto the leather seats. It took three attempts to shut the door behind her. She felt weak with exhaustion.
    “I get that, Kayls. I do. I’m just glad you’re home in one piece. What happened to Sam . . . it’s a tragedy. To be honest, when you left, we were terrified something similar was going to happen to you. You were in a fragile place, emotionally, and in a dangerous country. Frankly, we’re just glad—­”
    “Yes, Dad. I get it.” Kayla turned to face the window, dodging the concerned stares in her direction through the rearview mirror. “Glad it wasn’t me.”
    I wish I could say the same .
    B E R R Y H I L L H O U S E seemed bigger than when she’d left. Perhaps it was because she’d become used to mattress-­in-­a-­box style hostel rooms, or maybe because everything seemed distorted and alien to her. Like she was in a House of Mirrors, except it wasn’t her own reflection that was warped beyond recognition—­it was everything else. One thing remained the same, though. The door to her brother’s room was still locked. It always would be.
    God, I miss Gabe . Her little brother, wise beyond his years, would know exactly what to say. He’d know it hurt her to hear her family so relieved that someone else’s child had violently vanished. He’d talk to her for as long as she needed, and leave her alone when she needed space. He’d bring her hot cocoa just the way she liked it, but not in the patronizing, this-­will-­solve-­everything way that her mum would. God, she missed him.
    She peeked into the guest bedroom next to hers. Her nan, Iris (though Kayla had never called her that), was towel-­drying her permed, silvery hair, humming a tune Kayla had never heard before. She longed to burst through the door and cuddle her. Kayla loved Nan’s hugs—­she wasn’t spidery and frail like a lot of old ladies, who felt like they’d shatter if you squeezed too hard. She baked cakes and drank sugary tea and served up hearty servings of mince and dumplings with complete disregard to the fat content. If Kayla cuddled her now, Nan would smell the same as she always had: burnt toast and lavender. The homeliest smell Kayla could imagine. Her nan’s scratchy jumper would tickle her nose as she rested her head on her shoulder.
    She kept walking to her own room.
    The conversation over dinner that night was among the most uncomfortable of Kayla’s life. Everyone was at a loss—­they knew they had to eat, and they knew they had to make an effort to stay together as a family, but all of them wished they were elsewhere. Kayla? Checking the news, trawling the Web, doing anything she could to keep Sam alive in her mind. Mark? Drinking in the golf clubhouse with his business partners. Martha? Just drinking, period.
    Iris was their only conversational hope. “Was the weather nice on your holidays, Kayla?”
    “It was boiling. I wouldn’t say nice, though. It felt like I was in a sauna most of the time.”
    “I know what you mean,” Iris nodded. “It was like that when I went to Portugal last year.”
    More silence.
    “Did you make lots of nice friends?” Iris persevered.
    “Well, yeah. We had a group of five of us that were really close. But then, you know . . .”
    “Oh goodness, it’s so sad isn’t it. So sad.” Her Nan removed a congealed chunk of steak pie from her mouth—­her dentures couldn’t chew it adequately. They sounded loose when she chewed. “What was the food like over there? Spicy, I’d imagine. I can’t handle any of that Chinese food, personally. Far too hot. Give me a roast dinner any day.”
    “I wasn’t in China, Nan. I was in Thailand.”
    “Oh, it’s all the same to me, love. Can you pass the potatoes?”
    Kayla wondered how she would survive the night, let alone the next few