Each Day I Wake: A gripping psychological thriller: US Edition Read Online Free PDF

affected by that?”
    “No, it’s real. Everything I’m saying is real.”
    “We have your number, sir. Do you want to leave a name?”
    “It’s Tom. Tom Markland.”
    “Thank you Tom. We’ll be in touch if we want to talk to you further.”
    It was clear she’d concluded that I was a timewaster. I wasn’t making her understand the importance of what I was saying. “There are others, other women. I’ve seen them, too.”
    “You have their names?”
    “Rebecca. Margot. Felicity.”
    “No surnames?”
    “No, that’s all I have.”
    She was even less convinced now. “OK, Mr. Markland. We’ll be in touch if you can help us with anything.”
    I sank back in the chair.
    Why wouldn’t they believe me?
    It wasn’t difficult to answer my own question. I wouldn’t have believed me if I’d been that officer on the end of the line.

CHAPTER 20
    I felt better for having made the call.
    And it was a relief having told someone other than Janet and Mr. Healey.
    It was something like a confession. I had tried. I had tried to get someone to believe me.
    Janet acquainted me with more of my life, through images on her tablet, through her own recollections and what I must have told her before the accident. It was still like learning about myself second hand, as if I was this other person I must become. And, though I couldn’t say any of this felt like the real me returning, like the dam had broken and memories were flooding back, I got to know much more about this person that I was.
    I heard more about my colleagues at the paper.
    I began to feel a connection with Evan Hamilton, my boss. Janet told me how he’d advanced my career as a journalist, given me the breaks that had taken me from reporting petty crime to the front line in the investigative trade.
    “He’s been something of an inspirational figure to you.”
    “Maybe we should meet.”
    “He wants to visit. To tell the truth, he’s been insisting. But I told him it’s too soon, that your recovery is still in the early stages.”
    My recovery? I guess I had to accept that’s what it was but it was still a shock to have to accept that I had been driven so low. “If he needs to see me, maybe next week?”
    Janet nodded. “Maybe then. I want him to see you at your best, as the uncompromising journalist they all know you to be.”
    I wanted to know more. “Who have we investigated?”
    It was a question Janet had been waiting for. “I keep a collection of your articles.” She smiled. “I’m your greatest fan. You can read them all here.”
    She handed me the tablet and pointed to an icon that was labeled Tom’s Stories . I tapped the link and was sent to a folder in the cloud that opened to show a hundred or more articles, presented in date order.
    She snuggled up to me. “It’s all there. Every article you’ve published since we met. You should read them. If you’re ready for this, it may help.”
    I wanted to know. “Yes, I’m ready.”
    She left while I sat and read.
    It was complex, this backstory to my life. At first, I found the names and organizations mentioned were a blur. I couldn’t believe I’d ever written any of this. But I decided to approach this just like I’d taken on board everything else I’d heard from Janet. It didn’t feel like it was me but it must be me and I needed to learn it and believe it was true.
    I decided not to let myself be overwhelmed by the detail. I needed to extract a broad picture from the jumble of names, people, places, organizations, acronyms and dates. I needed to understand the outline, at least for now.
    The early stories were based around small time crime. The kind of stories a young journalist gets handed. As time ran on, the crimes I was reporting became more serious until just about every one concerned murder. Then, just a few months back, there had been a change, a move to cover financial crime. Behind all that lay securities fraud. The kind of scams in which investors lose millions. I was now