It was years ago, Jess told herself, as she rushed past curtained cubicles and carts, past blood pressure machines and computer screens, past medicine cabinets and an empty wheelchair. The medical profession had come a long way since then.

Halfway along the corridor there was a nurses’ station, and after a few polite inquiries, Jess was directed toward a cubicle two bays from the end. Without pausing to think about what she was going to say or what she might find, she swept back the curtain. And all at once she felt the past rushing toward her.

Her mum was sitting up in bed, flanked on one side by a teenager Jess knew from countless Google searches was her niece, and on the other side by the daughter she’d have given her life to protect. And there, in the middle, as if this were a stage and Lily was in the starring role, stood the sister Jess had cut out of her life more than two decades before.

“Get up, Mia. We’re going.”

Jess’s voice was hard and sharp as four pairs of eyes turned toward her and four smiles flattened into horizontal lines.

Chapter 30

Lily

Lily stepped forward, though whether in greeting or defense she wasn’t quite sure. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing emerged. Instead she stared at her sister, wondering how someone could look so changed and yet so unmistakably familiar: the same warm cream skin, now lightly etched with age; the same fire in her eyes, serving both as a statement and a warning; the same determined expression. For a second it was as though their years of separation evaporated and standing in front of her was the little sister Lily had only ever wanted to protect.

Her legs tensed as if preparing to move, to walk the single step that would place her within touching distance of Jess. Repressed affection seeped into her muscles from where it had lain dormant for decades. As Lily looked at Jess, it was as if she could see the gap narrowing, as if the distance between them was nothing more than one small step across a hospital cubicle.

But then Jess’s eyes caught hers and Lily felt the heat of her sister’s rage, was reminded of the day thirteen years ago when they had last seen one another: Don’t you ever go near my daughter again, do you hear me? You don’t deserve to be a parent. You shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near children.

The memory throbbed like a bruise on Lily’s heart. So many times over the years she had replayed that conversation, wondering whether anything could have been said to alter the outcome. So many times she had seethed at the recollection of Jess’s tone. But mostly, whenever she had allowed the memory to creep into her thoughts, Lily had been left with only a litany of silent questions. Except now that Jess was standing in front of her, Lily realized she didn’t know where to begin. She didn’t know whether she wanted to shout at Jess or turn and flee, whether she wanted to assault her sister with questions or wrap her arms around her and hope that somehow the space between them might shrink until they could feel it no longer. It was as though the passage of time and the enormity of the absence were so great that Lily no longer knew where this story started, couldn’t find her way back to the point at which their paths had diverged, like a child in a fairy tale whose trail of bread crumbs has long since vanished.