A White Picket Fence
A White Picket Fence
Laura Branchflower
Copyright © 2017 Laura Branchflower
All rights reserved
ISBN: 9780999175200
ISBN: 0999175203
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No Part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages or reproduce illustrations in a review with appropriate credits; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other – without written permission from the publisher.
For Joanne
Content
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
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
Epilogue
Also by Laura Branchflower
Prologue
“Lina!” Phil Hunter sat up in his bed, looking frantically around the darkened room, his seventeen-year-old body drenched in sweat. “Lina!”
He scrambled from the bed to his desk, his hands feeling around blindly in the dark for his car keys. He grabbed for the small chain to turn on the lamp but pulled too hard, and the light fell onto its side. He quickly righted it and turned it on with shaky fingers before his eyes searched wildly for his keys.
Yanking his jacket off the back of the desk chair, he dug his hands into the pockets, swirling them around in vain before throwing the jacket angrily to the floor. “Where are my keys?” he shouted to the empty room.
His bedroom door banged open. “Phil?” His father’s face was etched with concern. “What—”
“Where are my keys? Did you take my keys?” Pushing past him, Phil stepped out into the hall.
“What’s going on?” His older brother, Mike, his eyes puffy from sleep, came out of the bedroom across the hall.
“I need your keys.” Phil shouldered his brother out of the way and stormed into his room.
“Is he okay?” His mother joined the others in the hallway.
“I think he’s sleepwalking,” his father said.
They watched in stunned silence as Phil reappeared, sprinting towards the stairs with Mike’s keys gripped in his hand. “Phil! Stop!” his father shouted. “Stop!” He bounded after him down the stairs, catching him at the front door as Phil frantically undid the locks. “Stop!” He pushed his body against the door as Phil attempted to pull it open.