Author: Philip Anthony Smith

Episode NINE UNDER THE LIGHTS The forecourt hummed under the fluorescent strip lights, diesel hung in the breeze, and somewhere a pump clicked in the silence, reminding me why I was there in the first place. Under normal circumstances, I loved Mark’s biceps wrapped around me, but something about it felt forced. I wanted to…

Episode EIGHT SIXTY SECONDS My house was about twenty minutes away from the nearest police station, but given the lack of other vehicles on the road and the speed I was driving, I was on track to cut that in half. Isobel was hunched over in the passenger seat, still shakily clutching the pink rucksack…

Episode SEVEN THE GIRL IN THE VAN The echo of my knock faded, swallowed by the quiet street. No voice answered, no shuffle of feet, just the distant hum of the motorway and my own pulse pounding in my ears. I stepped back, contemplating prying one of the loose bricks off one of my neighbours’…

Episode SIX SECRETS IN THE SUDS For a moment, I just stood there, one hand pressed to my chest, the other gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that my knuckles turned white. The locket inside the machine continued to spin and tumble, catching the light in flashes of silver, as if it were…

Episode FIVE NO REST FOR THE WICKED I didn’t sleep that night, not really. I lay in bed listening to the wind rattle the windowpanes and the floorboards creak overhead, every shadow shifting into something menacing. At some point, the sky turned that ghostly grey that comes before dawn, and the house, exhausted by the…

Episode FOUR A FAMILIAR FACe After finding nothing else of note in the garden, the police finally left. They assured me that forensics would be back in the morning, but for now, the garden had been taped off and I was left with strict instructions not to touch anything and to call the minute Mark…

Episode THREE Ring, Ring My skin prickled as the two detectives continued their silent scrutiny, like they were waiting for me to crack and confess to a crime I didn’t even remember committing. I awkwardly fiddled with the tie of my dressing gown, desperately running through every possible way Isobel’s phone could have wound up…