Moonlight sends a shaft of silvery light between the gap in the thin curtains, into Laurel’s bedroom, an eerie glow passing over her face, making her skin appear white and ghostly. My heart twists at the sight of her, relieved to be with her again after so many weeks apart. My girl. She can’t stay here now though, that much is obvious.

I start to creep across the threadbare carpet, careful not to wake Polly in the room next door, sure that the thundering of my pulse will wake the entire household. Reaching down, I gently pull the duvet away from where it is tucked under Laurel’s chin and scoop her awkwardly into my arms. Stirring, she murmurs slightly, snuggling closer into my neck. She’s always been a heavy sleeper, ever since she was a baby, and she settles back into my arms almost immediately. I want to cry as I breathe in her familiar smell, of baby shampoo and biscuits, and I drop a tiny kiss on the top of her head, sure now that she won’t wake up, before I creep back towards the bedroom door. Those weeks without her felt like a lifetime.

I hesitate for a moment at the top of the stairs, my arms already beginning to ache with the weight of Laurel’s solid little body in my arms, feeling a slight pang of guilt at uprooting her, pulling her away again from what she’s become used to, before I give myself an internal shake pushing the thought away. I’m doing the right thing, taking her away from here tonight. It’s for her own good. Her own safety.

Carefully I start downstairs, testing each stair with my foot before I put my weight on it fully, anxious in case the floorboards creak. Polly is asleep merely feet away, and any tiny noise could wake her. I make it downstairs without a peep, my heart galloping in my chest, and carefully slide open the front door, careful not to bang Laurel’s head as I squeeze through the gap.

The wind picks up as I tiptoe across the gravel to where my car waits, the doors already unlocked in preparation for my journey, and I freeze as the outside porch light pings on, sending a warm yellow glow across the gravel driveway towards me. My pulse flutters an insistent beat in my temples, my fingers slick with sweat, and I shift Laurel uncomfortably in my arms, as my biceps start to burn with the effort of carrying her. A fox darts across the path from the front door, his movement the action that set off the automatic porch light, and I curse myself for not thinking to turn it off before leaving.