Lucidiphil hadn’t kept my demons under lock and key. It was up to me to chain them back up. ‘Oh my god,’ I panted. ‘Dad, I’m—Stephanie, are you—Are you okay?’ She spluttered amid the crushed Christmas presents, broken decorations and smashed glass. Bastard-nearly-choked-me-to-death. Stephanie’s lips weren’t moving. I saw a shimmer of myself through her eyes. My episode wasn’t over yet. I didn’t trust what I’d do next. ‘Go upstairs, Evan!’ I shouted. Danby-hit-Daddy. ‘Go, Evan! Go!’ He jolted. I never shouted at him. But it worked. As he bolted up the stairs, I imagined him thinking: Cave-cave-cave. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked Stephanie again. Only when I spoke did I become clearer to her—as though I’d emerged from camouflage. Such a freaky delusion: myself through her eyes.
