Chapter 11

• Freya shut the door, stepped back and walked to the kitchen. She couldn’t feel her legs. She felt sick, light-headed. She turned around to see Travis follow her in and close the door behind him, not shutting it completely.
• Travis was white beneath his dark colouring. And he looked murderous.
• He bit out, “This is where you tell me that by some extraordinary feat of genetic coincidence that little boy I just saw in there isn’t five years and approximately three months old. That he didn’t inherit exactly the same colour eyes that I inherited from my own mother. That he isn’t my son.”