I pushed open the gate to the manor house and stepped onto the pathway. The wind was howling through the trees; the storm made the rugged English moors even more menacing than usual. I glanced down at the piece of paper I was holding and read, once again, the address on the front. I was definitely in the right place. Madeline was here somewhere.
I walked forwards up the stone pathway. The manor house was more like a castle, with stain glass windows and imposing turrets sticking up into the night sky. I couldn’t see any lights on inside ...
