By the time Aidan arrives, Kieron has woken, had a drink, pushed some Weetabix half-heartedly around a bowl and is dozing again.

‘Morning.’ He plants a kiss on the top of my head. He hands me one of those large supermarket bags for life. ‘Emergency supplies,’ he whispers. Peeking inside, I see bottles of water, Jaffa cakes, honey granola bars along with the paperback from my bedside table, Kieron’s current read – a Goosebumps book along with his dog-eared copy of The Hunger Games – and some fresh clothes.

‘Thanks.’

‘How is he?’ Aidan gently strokes Kieron’s forehead.

‘Don’t wake him.’

‘Rough night?’

‘Yes.’

Aidan yawns. It doesn’t look like he’s slept much either. He has bags under his eyes, dozens of red blood vessels streaking the whites around his eyeballs.

‘You look shattered.’ I place my hand against his usually clean-shaven cheek, his stubble rough beneath my skin.

‘I’m all right. Do you think you’ll be home today?’ he asks.

‘I’m not sure. Did Connor get off to school okay?’

‘Yes. Look, I’ve got to get going – can you tell Kieron I came when he wakes.’

I promise to do that and once he leaves I try to read my book – uplit it was marketed as – but it’s horribly depressing. There’s already been an attempted suicide and it made me cross. The thought of someone wanting to die while my boy is fighting to live.

Lonely, I rattle off a text to both Melissa and Fergus. Once they’d have visited with armfuls of unsuitable gifts – too-old-for-Kieron magazines, cans of fizzy drinks and sweets.

Neither reply.

It’s late afternoon. I’m lying next to Kieron reading aloud. Katniss Everdeen is raising her bow. Kieron’s pale lips mouth the words with me, his face is as white as the bed sheets.

My phone buzzes a text.

I read the message.

Oh God.

My vision narrows, the clatter of the ward swells around me before ebbing away.

Oh God, no.

I read it again. Those words, dripping with fear.

What can I do? I feel so helpless.

The desire to do something drives me to my feet. There’s a rush of blood to my head as I stand and I wobble, my hip knocking Kieron’s bedside cabinet, his jug of water crashing to the floor.

Someone calls my name but it sounds muffled, far away.

Oh, God.

I can’t focus on anything but that text.

Despite the stifling temperature of the ward, I am suddenly icy, icy cold.

Connor.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Connor

Something was wrong.

Connor and Ryan had waited at Deene Street for Tyler that morning, but he hadn’t shown up. Unusually, he hadn’t replied to their messages.

‘Did he seem okay when you and Dad dropped him off last night?’ Connor had asked Ryan. Tyler had seemed fine at the hospital.