Hugh puts my stuff in the trunk, and we climb into the back seat of the taxi. I can’t get comfortable, I’m so nervous that there won’t be space on the plane. I’m leaning forward, willing the driver to go faster.

I try to call my mom, desperate for answers, but it’s the middle of the night and she doesn’t pick up. The backs of my legs stick to the leather vinyl. I would usually dread getting on a fourteen-hour flight without a shower, but now it seems like the least of my problems.

‘I’m sorry about Millie,’ Hugh says, as the car pulls away from the kerb. His voice catches as he says Millie’s name.

‘I’m scared,’ I whisper. My voice breaks on the last word.

Hugh squeezes my hand.

After a few minutes of silence, he clears his throat. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks quietly.

‘I tried. I was going to earlier, on the beach, but then, you know . . . we got . . . distracted . . . and then I wanted to last night . . .’

‘That’s the thing you had to talk to me about? That you’ve been pretending to be someone else the entire time I’ve known you?’

I nod, staring at my lap.

‘Who was I even talking to on Instagram?’ I can tell he’s trying his best to keep his anger at bay, but it’s creeping into his voice.

I lay a tentative hand on his forearm. ‘Me,’ I confess, finally meeting his eyes. ‘I was pretending to be Millie because you insulted my grammar. I proofread all of her stuff.’ I sniffle. ‘And then she had to get surgery, and she didn’t want to miss her chance to find the wrasse. And now . . .’ I trail off and start to cry, my voice breaking and tears welling up in my eyes.

Hugh wraps his arm around me protectively and pulls me into his chest. ‘Shhh,’ he repeats softly, stroking my hair. ‘It’ll be OK.’

‘I’m so worried,’ I cry, smearing snot across his shirt. ‘And I’m sorry I have to go like this,’ I say through sobs. ‘I didn’t mean for it to go this far.’

Hugh doesn’t say anything. I pull myself out of his grip and look him in the eyes. They’re brilliantly blue.

‘I know why you have to go,’ he says, reaching out to wipe a tear from my cheek. ‘I understand.’

I cry harder.

The taxi pulls up at the airport and Hugh jumps out, beating me to the trunk to unload my luggage. When the driver leaves and we’re alone on the kerb, both of us fall silent.