‘Worth a try, isn’t it? If you want to be better?’ I closed my eyes. ‘Good. Focus on the breaths. You have too much random shit in your head, it will create a mess.’

‘Do you actually like that rapey bastard you hang around with?’ I breathed deeply, held it, and let it out, too quickly.

‘I’ve known him a long time,’ he replied, on the breath.

‘Yeah, but do you like him?’

‘Like I said, I have known him a long time. Paco knows me.’

He was as trapped around Paco as Celestina. He couldn’t do without him. That was why he kept him around. Kept him sweet.

‘Don’t rush it, concentrate on holding and releasing those breaths,’ he exhaled. ‘A little of this every day will help you to carve out some space between your bad thoughts and acting on them.’

‘Meditation is going to stop me wanting to kill people?’

‘No,’ he said flatly, opening his eyes. ‘That will remain with you forever. I can’t get rid of that. But I can help you to make better decisions about who you kill. Focus on those breaths. Allow them in naturally. When your mind is fleeting to those random places again, bring it back to those breaths. Hold them. Release slowly. You are here. You are breathing. You are loved.’

I snapped open my eyes. It was what Caro had said to me, another lifetime ago. No, not another lifetime – two months ago. Being alive is enough. We’re here, we’re breathing. ‘Who loves me?’

‘The universe,’ he said, his eyes still closed. ‘The sun, the animals, your flowers, they love you. They grow for you. Mexico loves you.’

It did cheer me to hear that. It felt like my feet were touching the ground again. I had a bedrock to work from – as long as I had the sun and the flowers, the salt and scent of the ocean, blue sky and the whispering flight of unidentified birds of all colours overhead each morning, it didn’t matter who else was there. That could be my Enough.

Later that morning, I’d turned on my shower and went back into my bedroom to grab some clean pants when I heard loud voices downstairs – the Chipmunks were in the living room watching TV and eating the contents of the snack cupboards, no change there. But Celestina and Paco were outside, behind the house, arguing.

‘…mas dinero.’ More money.

‘…de ninguna manera…’ By no means.

Paco wanted to do something, but Celestina wasn’t having any of it.

Or as she put it, ‘No hay manera en el infierno.’ No way in Hell.