By the time she reached her mother’s house, it was late, and the whole house was dark, which was good; she wasn’t in the mood to explain herself tonight. She let herself in, as quietly as she could, closing the door softly behind her.
She crept up the hallway to the loft ladder. The ladder gave a sharp metallic squeak as she climbed.
“Shh, you noisy fuck.” she whispered to herself, as if the metal cared.
The hatch creaked open with a drawn-out screech that could have woken the dead. She winced, paused, waited and nothing. Her mother kept snoring peacefully downstairs.
Renee climbed into the attic, flicking on her phone’s torch. The beam cut through the dust, landing on a stack of old boxes in the corner.
‘RENEE – CHILDHOOD’ was scrawled across them in faded black marker.
She crouche
