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by Iain Edward Henn
Originally published by on 15/06/2018

She walked along the neon-lit street on a busy Friday night, wearing the red jacket.

None of the passers-by paid her any attention and yet she knew she was being watched. She shivered.

The knot in her stomach tightened as she approached the spot where the street passed the narrow lane. Why did she feel such dread?

She reached the lane and then she was in a vice-like grip, pulled away into the darkness.

She hadn’t expected to empathise so much with the victim.

She prayed her role in the police re-enactment would help catch her best friend’s killer.

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