‘Remember? How did you think I could forget? I wanted to disappear, Max, to slip away quietly without bothering anyone. To vanish. I didn’t want to be any more. And then …’ her voice calmed again, ‘and then you brought me back.’

I looked up at her.

‘Of course I did. Of course I saved you. What else could I have done? Doc loved you. I loved you. We were kids, Rachel, and you were out of your mind with …’

‘Saved me? Mamash, mamash lo, Max. No. Really no. You condemned me.’

‘Condemned you to what, exactly?’

She was quiet for a moment, making the space for what she needed to say, making sure I would hear her words. I kept my eyes fixed on hers, glowing green in the half-light.

‘Náire shíoraí,’ she said at last, in Irish. Eternal shame. ‘You brought me back and then you ran. You vanished and left me to burn in the heat of my own humiliation. And do you know why, Max?’ I struggled to my feet. Blood ran down my arm. ‘Because you are a coward. Whoever put those words in my mouth in the paper knows you better than you know yourself. You were too scared to let me die. Too scared to keep me alive. Too craven even to spare the life of an old man who loved you. But I survived, Max. And I survived for a reason. Everyone always does.’

‘Stop!’ I blurted out with unexpected force. ‘Please.’

I reached for her, but she recoiled, her face flickering in the chaos of shadows thrown up by the candles.

‘I asked you a question, Max Mac Ghill’ean. But I’ll give you the answer. Death is beautiful. They say the angel Azrael is covered with eyes, millions upon millions of eyes – beautiful, piercing eyes whose gaze no one can avoid. That no one has ever avoided. That is what is written.’ She jutted her jaw towards me, resolute, her own eyes catching the light again, filled with the certainty of belief. ‘And that is the truth. Do you know how it happens, Max? Do you know how Azrael takes your soul?’

‘No,’ I said, struggling to find anything to help me calm the storm I knew could drown us both.