Being outside like this had been terrifying at first, but she discovered that the more she focused on Milly, the less she thought about herself. The exercise was easy for her. She could have run around the lake eight times without having to pause for air, but even though she knew the training schedule she followed probably wasn’t practical for most people, still she was shocked by how generally unfit her friend was. And she was appalled by how little attention Milly paid to herself. Zoe was her first priority, then her mother and Nanna Peg, the business, Richard, and then, if there was any time left, which there never was, herself. She worried constantly about Zoe and claimed that was part of being a mother, and Nicole in turn worried that she simply wouldn’t be good enough and that her baby deserved better.

Fortunately helping Milly took her mind off her own problems.

The forest was their friend, shielding them from prying eyes and offering no end of opportunities for varying the workout. The joy of being outdoors was indescribable, and she appreciated every moment. The scent of the trees, the crunch of leaves and twigs under her feet, the birdsong, a shaft of sunlight breaking through the branches.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Nicole felt free. The early-morning runs gave her a tiny, delicious taste of what life would be like if she was anonymous, and she found herself starving for more of it. To be able to leave the house at any time of day. To be able to step outside her front door without cameras being pointed at her. To walk down a street without being stopped. To be able to sleep at night without worrying about who might be trying to break into her house.

And they were back home every day before Zoe was even awake. That quiet hour where they relaxed in the kitchen or took their coffee onto the deck was fast becoming Nicole’s favorite time of day.

She banned croissants and pancakes and instead encouraged Milly to chop fresh fruit and nuts onto plain yogurt. When her friend tried to sneak in a spoonful of honey, Nicole positioned herself by the cupboard like a sentry.

“You don’t need it.”

“I do need it. Local bees. Organic.”

“It’s still sugar. You don’t need it.”

Milly had sighed and eaten the yogurt without the honey, a martyrish expression on her face.

Nicole ate the same thing, even though it had been at least a decade since she’d eaten breakfast. And it tasted so good. The creaminess of the yogurt and the delicious bite of the nuts. Berries she ate all the time (low in calories), but somehow these berries tasted better.