She got to the part where she was managing a bank in the east end of London, living alone in a nice, but unremarkable flat in Shoreditch, seeing her mates a couple of times a week and spending far too long on Facebook staring at old photos of her and Ed. She came to the page which described her meeting a strange man in the park. He was called ‘ruggedly handsome’ and couldn’t decide whether they were her words or his. She found the scene she was in, the lounge complete with red wine stains, and then, holding her breath, she turned the page.

END OF PART ONE

She swore, and placed a hand on the page, breathing fast, her neck sweaty. She ran her hand over her neck then rubbed it on the couch, and stared down at the words. A hundred thoughts were rushing through her head. Was there another Ed out there, waiting for her? Would she get sick? Would she always work at the bank? Would George RR Martin ever finish A Game of Thrones? How would she die? The last thought stopped her in tracks and she stared up and through the Ikea print of Audrey Hepburn with her Breakfast at Tiffany’s fag. Did she want to know, really?

But what harm would it do? If there was someone out there for her, wouldn’t knowing about it make it happen, make it easier? She was nodding at the empty room, and with breath held once more, she turned the page.

ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS?

She hissed and turned it quickly, not giving the question time to even take its shoes off. The sound of the page turning was loud, full of portent and meaning.

DISCLAIMER:

THE CREATORS OF THIS BOOK ARE IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU CHOOSE TO READ ON.

And then, in much smaller type:

These words are written on paper, not stone.

She shrugged, not too sure what that one meant. They, whoever they were, were being serious though. She let the book sit on her legs as she ran her hands through her short black hair. Perhaps she should sleep on it, make sure that after a night in bed she still wanted to read what happened next. She glanced at the photo above the fake fireplace, at Ed smiling at her, and she picked the book up again, and turned the page.