CHAPTER FIFTY
Outraged CurlsKit barrelled across the lawn while keying in the digits to unlock the phone screen. The laces of her plimsolls impeded the movement of her fingers and the soles bumped against her thigh and spread grass stains over her jeans. She glanced up as the screen activated, finding herself stepping off the lawn and into a flower bed. A branch attacked her shin through her jeans, and she stopped. She hadn’t needed to activate the screen to dial the emergency number but once it lit up in the dirty grey dawn, she realised her near mistake.
Kit exhaled and tramped back across the grass to the front steps. She pressed the camera icon and snapped a picture of each flip flop in turn, nodding with satisfaction at her foresight. Lane believed nothing she said, but images didn’
