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Jack Culverhouse had his pedal to the metal, too, although he wasn’t heading in the direction of Mildenheath Hospital. He’d told the others he wanted to head over on his own as he had to quickly do something first. Once they’d left, he’d got in his car and started off towards the town Helen’s parents lived in.
The drive seemed to happen on autopilot, a thousand and one thoughts flitting around in his head as he tried to keep his emotions in check. There was still something at the back of his mind that told him this wasn’t really happening, that Helen had lied again or fed him another red herring, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was that there was a possibility, a small chance, a tiny ray of hope. If he was willing to get on a flight to Spain because someone he’d never hea
