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Unexpected Joy Dear God, Im thirtyeight, living alone in my little flat. In my whole life Ive never harmed

Eleanor Morrison clutched the lab results in a tight fist, the paper slick with sweat. The corridor of

I remember it as if it were a tale from another age, the kind that haunts the mind long after the embers

A suitcase full of belongings sits by the front door, zipped shut as if it were the final seal on a departure.

Evening for myself I trudged home down a dim lane in the outskirts of Manchester, where puddles halfhidden

Did she really say that? Emily asked, echoing her husbands voice. James nodded, took a slow sip from his mug.

By early summer the day stretched long outside the modest terraced house in a quiet Manchester suburb

Id left the spare set of keys to my flat with my best mate, Emma, before heading off on holiday, and

Dear Diary, Im still trying to make sense of what happened with Victor and his family, and the words