Discarded by M. Hunter (the reading list .txt) 📕

I nod in response to Maddie’s question and try to make myself comfortable on the hardened plastic chair behind the table.

‘There are three boxes of hardback copies of Isolated under the table to your left,’ Maddie points out. ‘And a box each of the paperback versions of Monsters and Ransomed. If someone wants to purchase all three then fab, otherwise focus on pushing the new book, as we have more copies of that. They have two more boxes in the storeroom if we run out, and judging by the length of the queue already, there’s a real possibility of that.’

I take out the two pens I packed in my satchel and hold them up so Maddie knows I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

‘I’ll take you for a nice spot of lunch when we’re done here,’ she says excitedly. ‘I’ll put it on company expenses.’

With that, the security guard unlocks the automated doors, and signals for the first of the queue to enter. The woman practically bounces up to the desk, the leopard-print spectacles sliding down her nose.

‘Can I just say, I am your biggest fan, Emma? I’ve been queueing here since five o’clock this morning just so I could guarantee getting a copy of your new book signed.’

At first I assume she is joking, but she is smiling so much that even my face begins to ache. ‘Wow, really? 5am? That’s dedication for you.’

Her expression suddenly becomes graver. ‘I am dedicated. I was the first to buy Ransomed when it came out in hardback, and now I’ll be the first to get my hands on Isolated.’

I don’t mention that copies of the book have been on sale in airports since Friday.

‘Who should I make it out to?’ I ask, reaching for one of the copies lying flat on the table.

‘Can you put, “To my number one fan, Ruby”?’

I begin to write the inscription. ‘Do you want any other personalised message?’

The question has thrown her. ‘Oh, I don’t know, just put whatever you think is good.’

I cringe inwardly at this response, as I do every time I hear it at this sort of event. Is it not enough that I poured my heart and soul into producing the finished article without being expected to come up with some meaningful and heartfelt dedication for a person I’ve never met before? I remember raising this challenge when Maddie forced me into a signing of Monsters and her response was: just put something like, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I say the words aloud as I write them in the book, before scrawling my author’s signature beneath them. That was another thing I didn’t learn until after that first book signing; the need to develop a signature different to the one I would use for writing cheques, and signing contracts. How easy would it be for a forger to get hold of one of my autographed books and learn how to imitate my hand? And so I now use a flowing E and H as my sign-off, which looks nothing like what’s scrawled on the back of my debit card.

Ruby snatches up the book and admires the message but makes no effort to move away from the table and allow the next person to come forward. ‘What’s it like being able to see the clues to a mystery that us normal folk miss?’

I look to Maddie for support but she’s gone off to buy me that bottle of water, which means I’m stranded and won’t be able to move Ruby on without offending her. I don’t have an answer to her question, because I’ve never really looked at myself in that way.

‘I… um… I just do my best to assess the facts.’

I’m cringing on the inside, but she isn’t done yet.

‘Did you know instinctively that Cassie Hilliard was still alive when her grandfather approached you that morning?’

I puff out my cheeks, stalling for time. ‘Well, um, so much has happened since that day that I…’ Why am I trying to actually think of an answer to this question? If Rachel were here (God, I miss her!) she’d give the response of least resistance and move excitable Ruby on. ‘I had no idea,’ I say. ‘I just followed the evidence as you read in the book, and everything slotted into place.’

Maddie returns and plants the bottle of water beside my writing hand, frowning at Ruby. ‘Oh you don’t pay for the book here. You need to take it to the till first,’ she says, and as soon as Ruby looks over to where she has indicated, Maddie is calling for the next fan to step forward.

The young woman who approaches next must be sixteen or seventeen at most, in ripped jeans and a crop top, despite the cold temperature outside. Her face is buried in her phone and her jaw is bouncing rhythmically with the gum in her mouth. I’d bet she hasn’t been standing in the queue as long as Ruby. In fact, she doesn’t even look up as she reaches the table. It’s only when I see Rick bouncing up and down outside the door that I realise who she is.

‘You must be Rick’s sister?’ I ask, as I reach into the box for a fresh copy of the book. I wave him over, as I know the dedication is for his benefit and the grumpy security guard steps aside to allow him entrance.

‘What should I put?’ I ask him, and is face is almost as giddy as Ruby’s was.

‘That’s okay, you only need to sign your name,’ he says stoically. ‘Would you mind if I got my sister to take a picture of us to go with it?’

How can I refuse when he gave me the lift here?

‘Sure,’ I say, cringing inwardly again, and he crouches down beside me at the table while his sister – who finally looks up from her phone – snaps the picture on his phone.

Outside the