![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)

Cover art by
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
( Chapter Thirteen - spoilers under the cut and no doubt in the comments )
And there we have it - the end of the story. Did it live up to the start? What do you think?
You have a photo album – one, which you showed me with a mix of chagrin and disbelief, years ago….And you asked me about my lot, and they stirred in me, as even the driest leaf stirs, as petals and newspaper cuttings do, the whispering dead. They ached and hurt like nerve-ends still firing in an amputated limb, and you saw me go pale, and you said, you don't have to talk about it. And because of that I could, a little. I told you about Kath; as my only sibling, a sliver of the truth. She paints, she's an artist. Lives alone up in Scotland. I think she was married once but... We exchange Christmas cards, sometimes with a letter in them. Sometimes not. You might get to meet her one day, mate. You'd like Kath.
CI5 agent Ray Doyle has received what should be an innocuous invitation from his artist sister, who he hasn’t seen in some years, to her first London exhibition. And with that invitation, Doyle’s carefully constructed world is slowly, but surely, crumbling away. He begins to act increasingly odd -- making tiny, potentially fatal mistakes on the job, apparently wandering all unknowing into a gay pub, and suffering blackouts.
( It gets worse before it gets better! )