A little incredulous laugh escapes me – the sheer nerve of this man, speaking as though Leah still wanted him. I would have died if I hadn’t escaped from him, she’s said, many times. But what if she’s died because she did escape? I swallow hard. He’s hurt her, I know it. She must have met someone new and gotten pregnant, and Anton must have found out and tracked her down. I stare at him, more furious than frightened now, and try to determine whether this man could be capable of hurting a pregnant woman.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Look, Dr Moss,’ he says in a mocking tone, ‘I know what a quack you are. Your so-called therapy has done exactly fucking nothing for Leah. The thing that has helped Leah get to a better place in the last few months has been returning to me. To allow herself to be loved fully.’

I’m stunned by his claim. Could it be true that she’s gone back to him? It would explain why she hasn’t mentioned the pregnancy if she has rekindled something with Anton, after years of sharing her experiences of a very turbulent past with this man. After writing a bestseller about the abuse he subjected her to. How could she have gone back? I feel irrationally angry.

‘I don’t believe you. Where is she?’ I try to look past him and into the apartment, but he’s a big guy and he’s blocking the doorway.

‘I’ve got to say you’ve got some nerve, Dr Moss, coming here and accusing me of lying when you clearly don’t know a thing.’

‘I know what she told me. I know that she was afraid of you. She used to lie awake at night, worrying about you discovering where she lives. And you’re standing here saying you are back together and that she is at her cabin, but not responding to calls or emails. How am I supposed to believe that when I know that she had to get a restraining order against you?’

‘A restraining order against me?’ Anton laughs, and looks genuinely surprised. ‘Wait, Leah even lies to her therapist?’

15

Leah, two weeks before

For once, the loneliness she fears and writes about and lives by and even courts, dissipates. He’s here. He came back again. Every time, he says this is the last time, it has to be. He holds her, for hours. She curls into him, like a mollusk into its shell.

We need to talk, he says.

I need you to hold me, she says, so he does.

We need to talk, he says, again, later.