“Jess? Can I help with anything?”

Jess spun around and saw a face she half recognized though for a moment she couldn’t think where from. “Ben, isn’t it? What are you doing here?”

“Your mum was at choir rehearsal when she collapsed. I was the one who called the paramedics. I just wanted to see how she was, make sure everything was OK.”

Jess thrust her hand into her jacket pocket, pulled out her phone, and scowled at its empty screen. “Do you know where she is? My daughter texted ten minutes ago to say she was with her and she’s OK, but the woman on reception isn’t exactly forthcoming with information.”

“I don’t know—I’m sorry. But I’m sure she’s fine. She had a brief blackout but only for a few seconds. She’d come around long before the ambulance arrived. She tried very hard to persuade us that she was fine, but both Phoebe and I thought she ought to get checked out.”

Jess’s eyes narrowed. “Phoebe’s here? What the hell was she doing at the choir rehearsal?”

“Rehearsing. She’s in the choir too. Didn’t you know?”

Ben’s words scrambled in Jess’s head, trying to form a meaningful explanation. But however she replayed them, they told the same story: her mum had been heading off to choir rehearsals twice a week for the past five weeks and had not seen fit to tell Jess that Phoebe was going with her.

“So where is she now? Phoebe? Is she still here?”

“I’m not sure. I guess so. She came in the ambulance with your mum and I haven’t seen her since so I’m assuming they’re still together. And another young woman turned up a little while ago—looks a lot like Phoebe but with longer hair. I figured she might be your daughter. She’s through there now as well.”

A cold skein of dread pulled tight in Jess’s stomach. “My daughter’s through there? With Phoebe? For God’s sake, next you’ll be telling me my sister’s here too.”

Jess watched as Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cast his eyes around the waiting rooms where people were beginning to glance in their direction.

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but I do know Phoebe phoned her mum just after the paramedics arrived and told her to meet us here. But I couldn’t honestly tell you whether she’s arrived or not. I don’t understand. What’s wrong with your sister and your niece being here?”

Jess stared at him, unblinking. “Jesus Christ. As if today wasn’t bad enough already.” Without saying goodbye, she turned around and rushed through the double swing doors toward the emergency treatment rooms, ignoring the receptionist’s instructions for her to stop.

As she hurried down the corridor, the smell hit her: the unmistakable stench of unspoken fear and tentative hope. It was a smell that flung open the door on memories Jess had tried so hard to keep closed: memories of men and women in white coats and blue scrubs, pretending they could make everything better, only for Jess to discover that it was a lie, that they were no more able to safeguard her family than she was.