Fire Damage: A gripping thriller that will keep you hooked. Kate Medina

Fire Damage: A gripping thriller that will keep you hooked - Kate  Medina


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target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#litres_trial_promo">Chapter 31

      

       Chapter 32

      

       Chapter 33

      

       Chapter 34

      

       Chapter 35

      

       Chapter 36

      

       Chapter 37

      

       Chapter 38

      

       Chapter 39

      

       Chapter 40

      

       Chapter 41

      

       Chapter 42

      

       Chapter 43

      

       Chapter 44

      

       Chapter 45

      

       Chapter 46

      

       Chapter 47

      

       Chapter 48

      

       Chapter 49

      

       Chapter 50

      

       Chapter 51

      

       Chapter 52

      

       Chapter 53

      

       Chapter 54

      

       Chapter 55

      

       Chapter 56

      

       Chapter 57

      

       Chapter 58

      

       Chapter 59

      

       Chapter 60

      

       Chapter 61

      

       Chapter 62

      

       Chapter 63

      

       Chapter 64

      

       Chapter 65

      

       Keep Reading …

      

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

      

       Also by Kate Medina

      

       About the Publisher

       1

      The little boy inched through the doorway, arms and legs jerking like a marionette. Stopping just inside, he scanned the room with frightened eyes. In his hands, he gripped a torch. A huge, black metal Maglite, which swung slowly back and forth in front of him as if he was feeling his way through darkness. The beam traced along the walls, was swallowed for a moment by the sharp winter light cutting in through the sash window. It scoured each corner, drifted over the furniture, stopping to inspect the alcove under Jessie’s desk, the corner where the filing cabinet housing her psychology books and journals cast shadow.

      Kneeling down so that her face was level with his, but maintaining her distance, avoiding direct eye contact, Jessie smiled.

      ‘Hello, Sami. I’m Jessie Flynn,’ she said softly.

      She had dressed in civvies this morning, a denim skirt, long-sleeved white shirt and simple, navy patent leather ballet pumps, ubiquitous clothes that communicated nothing about her, made no statement.

      The little boy remained silent. He continued to rotate the torch, eyes twitching from side to side, nervously tracking its beam. Standing, Jessie stepped forward to close the door.

      Sami shot back against the wall, his expression rigid with fear. A sob burst from his lips. Swinging the torch wildly, he made a harsh, throbbing noise deep in his throat, like the growl of a terrified dog.

      Jessie moved away, hands spread calmingly.

      ‘I’m sorry if I scared you, Sami. I didn’t mean to.’ She sat down slowly in one of the two leather armchairs by the window. ‘I won’t move from here. You explore my office. Take as long as you like.’

      He


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