Page 111 of Breaking the Dark

They get out of the Uber on Convent, next to the church, and head toward the block that Luke recognizes from the Airbnb photos. On the panel outside there are twelve buzzers. Jessica looks at Luke and Lark, shrugs, and presses a button at random. “Er, hi,” she says to the person who responds. “Police. I’m looking for an Airbnb on this block, do you happen to know which number it is?”

“No clue.”

The resident ends the call and Jessica presses another bell.

It takes a full ten minutes of pressing buttons and talking to residents to establish that the Airbnb is apartment number 12 and that whoever has booked it has been living there for three months and has two small children and a dog.

Jessica sighs and leads them all to the next address. As they approach, Lark stops and stares up the building. “He’s here,” she says. “He’s definitely here.”

This building has closer to forty buttons on the panel outside, and Jessica looks at Lark and says, “Which one should I press first, then?”

Lark rolls her eyes. “I’m a twin,” she says, “not a Find My Phone app.”

As she says this someone exits the building and the three of them slip inside before the door shuts again.

Jessica and Luke follow behind Lark as they work their way through the halls, looking for a door that correlates with the door in the photos.

“Any spooky twin feelings?” Jessica asks Lark, but Lark just shrugs, apologetically.

Then a door opens suddenly farther down the hall and an old woman appears, holding a Yorkshire terrier close against her chest. “What are you doing?” she asks accusingly, eyeing up the three of them with barely disguised distaste.

“We’re looking for the Airbnb,” says Jessica, pretending to be looking for something on her phone. “The owner seems to have given us the wrong details. He said it was on this floor, but…”

“That’ll be the place at the very end. Number 356. Please though, tell me you’re not planning a party up there.”

Jessica smiles, reassuringly. “Oh no,” she says. “No. We’re just having some family time. We’ll be super quiet.”

“Good,” says the old woman. “They ought to arrest the owner. Rentals like that are illegal. You get all sorts renting them out. All sorts. No respect for their neighbors…”

But Jessica is already walking away from the woman, calling out her thanks as she goes, heading toward the doors at the end of the hall.

Number 356 is the middle of three doors and bears an undecipherable tag in purple spray paint. Lark nods, eyes wide. “He’s definitely in there,” she says. “I can feel him.”

Jessica steps forward and knocks. There is no response. She looks at Lark. “You sure?” she asks.

Lark nods, then knocks herself. “Fox. It’s me. Let me in.” She puts her finger to her lips and steps back. Then a moment later the door opens, just a crack.

“What the hell, Lark?” It’s Fox’s voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m just…” Fox peters off. “Nothing.”

“Can you let me in, please?”

“No. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?”

Lark turns and looks at Jessica and Luke and then stands back.

Jessica backs away from the door, then hurls herself at it. It splinters apart and she tumbles into the tiny apartment, followed by Luke and Lark.

“What the hell!” yells Fox, backing away from them and toward a small desk in the window, where a man sitting in front of two computer screens stares at them in horror.

“Where’s Malcolm?” Jessica yells.

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