Soul Storm by Kate Harrison Read Free Book Online

happen to me till after I got my results.’
    ‘Ah. But I . . . had a gap year. So my place is confirmed.’
    The girl sighs. ‘God. I thought you knew you were old when the
policemen
started looking younger, not the freshers. Ah, well, enjoy it. It’s a good halls. Sociable. Decent
rooms. Oh, and take no notice of all the bullshit about the place being haunted.’
    ‘Haunted?’
    She pulls a face. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
    ‘A bit late now, though.’
    ‘That girl. The singer from the telly. She was killed here. They left the whole of the third floor empty this year as a mark of respect, but . . . they’re opening it up again for the
new academic year. So many students need accommodation.’
    I say nothing.
    ‘But, seriously, don’t worry about it,’ the girl says, her voice high-pitched. ‘Even if they put you on that floor.’
    ‘People think they have actually seen a . . . a ghost, though?’
    The box looks heavy and I think she’s losing patience with me. ‘Only one girl and she’s the dead girl’s best mate. Poor thing. She shouldn’t have stayed on. Imagine
that! So sad to have all those memories. Me, I’d have left.’
    ‘What floor’s the friend on?’
    ‘First. If you see her, don’t mention it, eh? Nice girl, but I’m not sure she ever got over it.’ She sighs. ‘The place is fine, right? I’ve never heard or
seen anything creepy. What happened was sad but, you know, people move on.’
    She heads past me towards the front entrance, and I try to smile. I can’t imagine ever being ready to move on.
    I skip the lift and walk up the stairwell to the first floor.
    Even though I’ve prepared myself, the sight of the landing makes me dizzy. The layout’s identical to the third floor, where my sister died: there are four security doors with glass
panels, leading to the bedrooms which share a kitchen. Through one door, a couple of girls are leaning against the wall, chatting over mugs of tea.
    That could have been Meggie and me. I used to love visiting. Yet, to those girls, her death is ancient history.
    But there is one person here who remembers. I must focus on
her.
    Each security door has a buzzer, with a list of names stuck next to it. I check the lists in turn. I’ve never been inside Sahara’s new room; she was too keen to show me inside my
sister’s old room the last time.
    I shiver at the memory.
    At the third door, I see her surname:
Du Lacy.
    I look around me. No security cameras, even now. CCTV might have helped to bring Meggie’s killer to justice.
    Could Sahara get away with killing me too?
    Maybe I have the question the wrong way round: why would she
stop
now? The driving kept me distracted on the way here, but now . . .
    There’s a tightrope I have to walk between seeking the truth and accusing Sahara directly. I daren’t fall off.
    I push the buzzer, holding my breath.
    A shape appears through the glass. I breathe again; it’s too petite to be Sahara.
    A girl comes to the door, opens it. ‘Who are you after?’
    ‘Sahara?’
    She opens the door. ‘Oh. OK. I think she’s packing up.’ And she points to her right.
    I step through the door, and the girl disappears into the kitchen. Not just a girl, I realise. A potential
witness.
    For a moment, it makes me feel safer. She’ll remember me, won’t she? And so will that girl I met downstairs. Then again, Zoe wasn’t involved until she saw my sister’s
body. It’s not a good thing, to be a witness.
    I hesitate outside the door. Weird. I think I hear someone else’s voice. If Ade has decided to help Sahara pack instead of visiting his parents, then I’m wasting my time. He’ll
protect her.
    I knock, then step slightly to the side so she can’t see me through the spyhole.
    ‘I’m busy,’ Sahara’s voice is thin, unwelcoming.
    She thinks I’m one of her flatmates. I don’t speak; I want her to be surprised, perhaps shocked into telling the truth. I knock again. Nothing. Then I bang with my