I didn’t directly mention the ‘Cabhrui’ website, or how I had helped Tara, but I did tell him he would find out something about me. I told him I didn’t think it was a bad thing and I hoped he wouldn’t too. I might be pushing my luck with that wish. But it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t have to agree with what I did. I just hope he understands.

Mam was frantic on the phone when she first heard. After calming down, she asked me was I okay to stay here or did I want to come home? I told her I had to stay here. I had to get better.

Her tears were muffled but I knew she was crying and when she said she was proud of me the word rang like an angel’s song in my ear. Proud. I’d almost forgotten that word existed.

I’m nervous. I’ve never faced so much uncertainty and yet I feel stronger than I have in a long time. Do I owe my recovery to Avril Ryan? The knowledge I have gained over the past few weeks has helped me get to this point. It would never have happened if Huntley Lodge hadn’t appeared on the TV that night. I would never have opened those doors. I would never have received a call from Tara which fueled my journey into the past. Stalking was probably not one of my finer hours and realising how much I hated Tara Moore was scary. But I’m ready to let it all go now. The past. Andriu… Emily…

‘Fuck.’ Clarity crashes into my head. The text from Avril Ryan. I’m supposed to have received it the week Tara’s mam died. But what if it was the same night she died? That would explain why I didn’t see it. I wasn’t in possession of the phone. I wasn’t the one who replied to that text and arranged to meet her at Huntley Lodge.

I jump up in the bed… No… Sweet Jesus, it can’t be.

But it makes sense.

‘Aoife, Aoife.’ Tossing the duvet aside I rush to her bedside and shake her, not caring if I frighten her. ‘Aoife, wake up!’

‘What?’ she says lifting her head from the pillow. ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

‘Aoife, I need your phone.’

‘But…’

I rush to the wall and switch on the light. Then I hurry to the pile of unread leaflets and cards that I’ve collected in my drawer. It’s hurting me to breathe. My eyes are stinging.

‘Where the fuck is it?’ I’m tossing paper after paper onto the ground when I finally see it. The card is caught in the edge of the drawer. I pull it loose and put my other hand out to Aoife.

‘The phone, Aoife.’