“The tone?” She felt something tighten inside her, the usual warning from her body that conflict was coming and she’d better duck and take cover.

“Yes. Normally you’re a mild person. Gentle and kind. You’re accommodating.”

Mild? What sort of word was that? What sort of person did mild describe?

The sort of person who made excuses for a man who was behaving badly.

She thought back to the message she’d left. Be more Amara. “I simply pointed out that if you’re making plans with your daughter, you should stick to them. And you should.”

“Obviously I’m doing my best. I don’t need to be lectured by you.”

Her palms felt sweaty, and her pulse was sprinting so fast she wondered if a conversation with Richard might count as a workout. They told you to get your heart rate up. They weren’t specific about how you were supposed to do it.

It embarrassed and annoyed her that she had this extreme reaction to conflict.

She was no longer ten years old. This wasn’t her father shouting at her mother and then walking out. Richard had already left her. What more could he do?

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead to relieve the ache. Sadly there was plenty he could do, the worst of which would be to make things more difficult for their daughter.

What had happened to the man she’d loved for so many years? The man who had promised to love her forever. The man who had swung Zoe round in his arms when she was four years old and taught her to swim and ride a bike. Go for it. Daddy will catch you.

She felt a pang of sadness as she thought back to those happy times. Her life had felt so right. As if things had worked out exactly as they should. She hadn’t anticipated ever finding herself in this position.

“All I’m asking is that you think of Zoe’s feelings. She’s particularly vulnerable at the moment. Speaking of which, I think something is bothering her.” It was playing on her mind. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas what might be wrong?”

“She seemed fine to me.”

“She mentioned that she might give up drama. Has she said anything like that to you?”

“No, but she’s a teenager. They change their minds about things all the time. Don’t fuss.”

Was she fussing? She was never sure if she was being anxious or astute. “I just think we should make sure she has the chance to talk if she wants to. This has been a difficult time for her.”

“And you’re saying that’s my fault.”

Milly bit her lip, determined not to let things escalate. “It’s not about fault. It’s about making sure we’re putting her needs first in all this.”