“But I want to. If you’ve been in there, why shouldn’t I?” Jess edges along the landing, emboldened by what she senses to be Lily’s fragile hold over the situation.

“Stop it. I mean it, Jess. You must not go in.”

The expression on Lily’s face sends a cold chill tiptoeing along Jess’s spine: her sister’s flushed cheeks, narrowed eyes, pinched eyebrows. The panic trying to disguise itself as authority. It is unclear whether Lily is about to defend herself or launch an attack. Jess knows there is only one emotion that pulls her sister’s face into that expression: guilt. Except this guilt is unlike anything Jess has seen before. It is so powerful that it saturates the empty space on the landing until Jess can feel it filling her lungs.

Fragments of Lily’s telephone conversation from two weeks before begin to repeat in Jess’s head like a musical refrain she is unable to silence. Sometimes it just feels like they’ve forgotten they’ve still got two other children. It’s like we don’t exist anymore. And then the memory of Lily sobbing to their mum and dad a few days later: No one should have to be in that much pain. For goodness’ sake, people do more for sick pets than they do for people. There must be something we can do. I wish it could all be over. She remembers the strange voice with which Lily had spoken, and their dad’s angry reply, a response Jess hadn’t understood at the time. But now, all of a sudden, Jess feels as though she understands everything, all those conversations she was never meant to hear. And now that she does understand, she wishes with all her heart that she didn’t.

Jess’s stomach somersaults beneath the elasticized waistband of her bottle-green skirt. She feels the blood pulsing at her wrists, trying to force her to confront the possibility of what has taken place inside that bedroom. Her heart pounds as if her body is urging her into action. She imagines taking a step forward and pushing Lily aside, a struggle in which she manages—against Lily’s advanced years and superior strength—to emerge victorious. But thoughts of what might happen afterward—what she might see and what she might learn—cement her feet to the floor.

The alarm on Lily’s digital watch beeps. Lily jerks her hand to turn it off and Jess feels herself flinch. She knows it is Lily’s 8:30 a.m. alarm, the one her sister has set to ensure they leave for school on time now that their parents are too distracted to remind them. Lily holds Jess’s gaze for a few seconds more until Jess is the first to turn her head away. Jess begins to make her way down the stairs, and only then does she realize that her legs are trembling. She hears Lily’s footsteps close on her heels but does not turn around. She cannot bear to see that look on Lily’s face again: a look that has told Jess something she does not want to know.