Craig crouched down to investigate the noise, his curiosity puncturing his grief. A small silver coin glittered at his feet. It was a ten pence piece. Idly he picked it up and turned it over in his hand, glancing at the year stamped on it.
He frowned. Something was not right. After the police and ambulance crew had left, no-one had disturbed the cellar. His parents found it too hard, being in the place where they lost their son. Craig was still haunted by what had happened on that fateful afternoon.
So why was there this coin, dated three years after Matt's death?
Craig felt the fear prickling his skin. It was the same feeling he'd had five years earlier. He felt his heartbeat quicken, his breathing grew shallower. He was panicking. Just as he had five years ago.