She carries on, proving me right. ‘Bob came home drunk for one of the adoption visits, saying he couldn’t get away from work, though it was obvious he’d forgotten. I saw my last chance fly out the door with the social workers as they left. But it wasn’t my fault. The system failed me, and it would have failed Jill too, and I knew I could give her a wonderful life. And she had one. She didn’t spend precious years worrying about where her next meal was coming from or sleeping on a damp mattress.’

‘But it still doesn’t make it right,’ I say.

‘I loved her,’ Ruth goes on breathlessly. ‘I loved her so much.’

‘I know you did.’

‘But I failed her too in the end, didn’t I? I didn’t know she was sick.’

Despite myself, I reach for Ruth’s hand.

‘Jill missed you a lot when you left, she – she never stopped hoping you’d come back,’ Ruth says, looking to the corner of the room. ‘She never knew you wrote. Bob kept your letters from her, so she never knew how to find you.’

‘Why would he do that?’ I gasp.

‘I’m sorry.’ She pulls her hand away. ‘I didn’t want him to, but after everything that happened—’

‘Do you mean with Iona? Ruth, what happened to her?’ I press forward, leaning across the table.

Ruth draws in a deep breath and releases it slowly. ‘I wasn’t there. I don’t know.’

‘I think you do.’

‘Only what I’ve been told.’ She looks at me, tears sliding down her cheeks. Running a hand up and down her dressing gown, she scratches at her skin through the thick fabric.

A door slams at the back of the house. Only my eyes move as they flick to the side, expecting Bob to have appeared in the room.

Another slam. A heavy thud.

‘You should go,’ Ruth whispers, her words so quiet I’m not sure I heard them. ‘Go,’ she says again, but I don’t budge, and suddenly Bob is standing in the doorway, a heavy dark coat slicked damp with rain, black hair sculpted off his face, eyes boring through me.

Fight or flight.

I answered flight in my counselling training. I always knew I wasn’t brave. Not when it came to it. But tonight I freeze.

Evergreen Island

7 September 1993

Iona was sitting on the bench by the quay as David said she would be. She looked up when Maria emerged from between the trees and Maria hesitated for a moment before walking over and sitting beside her.

‘We’re not who you’re looking for.’ Maria studied the girl. Iona didn’t look as confident as she had earlier and Maria wondered what conversation David might have already had with her. ‘I think you’re here looking for a sister, and while you look alike, it’s not Bonnie.’