Two-Faced

Tallie has always been normal. Just a girl at school living with her mum.
But that's all changing now.
After her mother was murdered, and the murderer never charged, she took matters of law into her own young hands. But it all went wrong. She's got to escape before everyone realises the crime she's commited. Living in a hut on a deserted moorland is her only option. Until David arrives.
He can help her; he's a police man, the only one on her side. Soon Tallie is deeply in love with David, but is he all he says to be? Or is he in fact the very man she is running from?

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1. What I did

 I'm still here, at my house. The police will be round soon, I can tell, they'll question me, interrogate me. And I'll have to lie. Because I did do it. 

But it was his fault.

The postman down our street, he murdered my mother. He broke in one cloud-less night, with only a slice of a crescent moon for a witness, a gleaming dagger in his sweaty palm. That dreadful night, he slaughtered her in cold blood, and left without an inch of guilt in his heart. To this day I don't know why he did it. I remember hearing muffled breathing, as if the person breathing was under a wedding veil, then a shrill wail, which was cut short almost as soon as it had begun. My legs moved without any messages from my mind, and I was off down the landing like an ambulance who's driver knew he was too late to save his patient. As I shot into the bedroom, the Victorian beams up above narrowly missing my scalp, I realised within seconds that it was over. 

Mother was but a crumpled corpse on the fluffy carpet, surrounded by a stain that was obviously not red wine, as it would have appeared in a different situation. It was her pure blood, spilled by a beastly dagger. The postman was but a faint trace of aftershave in the inky night. 

It would not have been so easy to convict the him, had it not been for the scrap of white paper on the plush carpet; an envelope. One of his envelopes. 

I remember watching the crimson stain turn a paler shade of pink, as it mixed with my own despairing tears.

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