The reception staff had told her that her mother was being seen by doctors and that Milly couldn’t see her yet because she was having tests.

What tests? And why couldn’t anyone tell her anything more?

In those last terrifying moments before her mother had collapsed on the floor Connie had been incoherent and confused. She hadn’t registered Milly’s presence. Judging from the speed with which the paramedics had whisked her to hospital, they hadn’t liked what they were seeing.

And Milly was beating herself up for not having noticed sooner how unwell her mother was. She’d been so lost in her own problems that when her mother had told her she was fine, she’d believed her.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. When was she going to hear something?

She’d drunk two cups of vile-tasting coffee, and in a weak moment she’d messaged Nicole, something she now regretted. Why had she done that? There was nothing Nicole could do, and Milly’s call would have worried her. Whatever had or hadn’t happened, Milly didn’t doubt her friend’s love for her mother.

Her eyes filled. She made yet another bargain in her head. Please let her be okay, and I will be a good person for the rest of my life.

But what if she wasn’t okay? What would she do if something happened to her mother? How would she ever cope?

She wished she could switch off her feelings or at least turn down the dial. Her mind spiraled to darker and darker places, and finally, after what felt like a lifetime, a doctor appeared in the corridor, and she rushed toward him.

“Do you have news about my mother? Connie Beckworth?”

“You’re a relative?”

“Her daughter.” That word didn’t begin to sum up their relationship. What her mother meant to her. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She has a head injury and a couple of fractured ribs—”

Fractured ribs?

“The ribs will heal by themselves, but we’re not sure what other injuries she may have sustained so we’re doing some more tests. She will probably be discharged later, so if you’d prefer to go home in the meantime—”

“I’ll stay,” Milly said immediately. “Can I see her?”

“Not yet. We’ll let you know when you can.”

The doctor strode away leaving Milly feeling more helpless than ever.

She sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs.

Next to her an elderly man was being reassured by his daughter.

The warmth between them intensified Milly’s feeling of loneliness.

She wished there was someone she could lean on, but she couldn’t call Nanna Peg because she was with Zoe, and anyway she didn’t want to worry her. Brendan?