‘Did either of them ask you to interfere? How about we try to fix ourselves first and then maybe move on from there?’ I suggested.

Libby sighed. ‘Yeah, OK. I suppose so.’

I shook my head. ‘Libby, I mean it. Don’t get involved. Let Callie and your dad handle their own lives, OK?’

‘I want Dad to be happy twenty-four-seven, not just for two days a week.’ Libby’s expression was so earnest, it made me uncomfortable.

‘I want Callie to be happy too, but that’s up to them, not us.’ I said. ‘Besides, I have enough troubles on my own plate without taking on theirs as well.’

‘Like what?’

Like getting my head together. ‘Like what to do with my life?’ I sighed. ‘Before we were kidnapped, I thought I knew. Exams and uni, a career, two holidays a year – I had it all worked out.’

‘And now?’

‘Now I can’t seem to decide anything.’

‘Collette says that’s to be expected,’ Libby reminded me.

Collette was the psychologist that Callie and Tobey had insisted Libby and I needed to see on a regular basis after we’d been rescued. Initially, I’d gone to see Collette kicking and screaming. A psychologist? I mean, please. What good would talking to a stranger do? But, after a few weeks, I had to admit that she was helping me deal with everything that had occurred, especially with what happened to Mum.

Sometimes I only had to close my eyes and I could almost feel Mum giving me one of her bear hugs. When I remembered the way I used to shrug her off … Oh, what I’d give just to be held once more, to see her smile at me, to hear her voice. Even though it wasn’t my fault, I still partly blamed myself for Mum’s death. If I hadn’t allowed myself to be dragged into that van— Logically, I told myself I did all I could, fought as hard as I was able, but logic wasn’t cutting it.