But he was trapped. He had no idea what she would do to his daughter if he left. He knew now that she would never let them leave.

He stood up from the stool and followed her up the stairs.

* * *

Richard woke with a sharp intake of breath and bolted upright. He had let his guard down.

The sun had risen behind the curtains. He looked beside him. Amber wasn’t there.

He had lain beside her until dawn, too fearful to turn his back on her but repulsed at the sight of her. She had tried to embrace him, but he pulled away.

‘Are you afraid of me, Richard?’ she had whispered. ‘You should be.’

He spent the night with his back turned, listening to her soft, even breaths. She wasn’t grinding her teeth any more. Her stress had been eliminated – she had disposed of the threat.

He immediately thought of Samantha and got out of bed. He had to check on her. She would be back from her sleepover by now.

Her slipped into his dressing gown and slippers and headed for the door. He stood at the top of the stairs and listened to the house. He could hear chatter from the kitchen and the smell of something sweet.

He walked down the stairs with a racing heart. When he reached the ground floor, he spotted a picture frame had been hung over the hole in the plaster where his fist had been, and the debris had been vacuumed from the carpet. From the kitchen he could hear cheer in Samantha’s voice, oblivious to the events that had happened in her absence.

When he entered the kitchen, he blinked a few times to focus on the scene.

Amber was at the stove flipping pancakes. An apron was tied around her waist, and her hair was tied up in a styled bun without a hair out of place.

‘Hi, Daddy,’ Samantha said from the island unit. Penelope was in her lap and licking her hand. Samantha began to laugh. ‘James has gone away, so we get to look after Penelope!’

Amber turned the moment she heard Samantha greet him. Her make-up was painted immaculately and the smile he knew so well brightened up her face. Concealer had been applied to her neck, but when he looked closely, he could see the bruising from where his hands had been.

‘Good morning, darling,’ she said to him.

‘We’re having pancakes,’ Samantha said.

‘Would you like some?’ Amber asked. She wrung a tea towel between her hands.

They both watched him until he responded. The words stuttered from between his lips.

‘Yes. I’d love some.’