Claudia air-kissed her friend at the hotel reception and waited for Bryony to leave before taking the lift to the second floor. The note had requested that she go to room 215, and when she arrived, there was a housekeeping trolley parked outside and a bag of laundry propping open the door. A chambermaid was sitting on the edge of a freshly made bed clutching a dust cloth.

‘Karin?’ Claudia asked.

‘You know who I am?’

‘I’ve seen your photo in the paper enough times,’ Claudia said, although she had already guessed the identity of the note writer by the initials used in place of a signature. She was more interested in knowing why their meeting should be so urgent or so secretive.

‘Then you know who my brother was?’ Karin asked, her accent not dissimilar to Declan’s. She had his eyes too.

‘Yes.’

Karin stood up and backed away, giving Claudia the confidence to step deeper into the room. She kicked the laundry bag out of the way and let the door close. ‘What do you want, Karin?’

‘To say I’m sorry,’ she began. ‘For everything he did. For everything he put us all through.’

Claudia’s hands had been tightened into fists, but she forced them to relax. This broken woman meant no harm, unlike her brother, who had caused untold damage. ‘You shouldn’t blame yourself.’

‘Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being punished for his sins.’

Karin’s lip trembled. She wanted more from Claudia than to offer an apology. ‘Why have you brought me here?’

With her chin pressed to her chest, Karin said, ‘I know I don’t deserve it, but I need help. I was in Victoria Park the other night, and I heard what you said about how our suffering goes on. I used to be a bar manager, but I couldn’t go back to work after the fire. Sure, keeping any job is a struggle.’

Claudia watched as Karin twisted the dust cloth in her hands. ‘From what I’ve read, you were injured quite badly. You must have been traumatised by what you went through.’

‘I was on life support for a while, and needed physio when I came out of the coma, but I’m good now. It’s not the physical stuff that keeps me from work, it’s people. Once they realise who I am, they look like they might spit in my face. Actually, someone did.’

‘That’s so unfair.’

‘No, what’s unfair is seeing my partner, Beth, suffer. Unlike me, she didn’t lose her memory. It was hours before she found out I’d been pulled out alive, and weeks before she knew I was going to make it. If anyone should have the nightmares, it should be her.’

‘But it’s you?’