Lina lift her head and stares at her; in the shame of that gaze, Melissa understands. The truth had been waiting for her all along; she had only to look, she had only to listen. She puts her hand on top of Lina’s. The truth was hiding in sounds: the office door closing quietly each Saturday on pay day, the weeping in the pantry when the boyfriend was blamed; it had been in the way Lina’s gaze never met her own; it’s here, in the bracelet on Lina’s arm. A sorry present from Paul, like the ones she used to get. There are moments in life, not many, when you know with clarity that something has started or come to its end. At this moment she knows her marriage is over, that she will leave Paul, taking Izzy, and that her responsibility for Lina has begun.

‘We need to leave. It’s too dangerous for you here.’ She can take Lina to safety, and come back for Izzy within hours. Lina looks at her; her eyes are unfathomable.

‘We need to find somewhere safe for you until I can find a home for all of us, you, me and Izzy.’ A house of some kind or a flat, they’ll rent somewhere first. She could find a different school for Izzy if necessary. Anything is possible once you make up your mind.

The dark eyes flare, hope or mistrust, she isn’t sure which. How much can Lina understand? It’s ridiculous that she doesn’t know still, exactly how well they can really communicate. The kettle has boiled. Melissa makes a cup of tea, adds honey then gives it to Lina. She sits next to her again, watching her sip and the colour creep into her cheeks.

All the questions she can’t ask jumble in her mind: how often did he hit you? How many times were you raped? Why didn’t you tell me? But she knows the answer to the last one: Lina didn’t tell her because she was ashamed, as she herself has been, for years. Lina’s hand is trembling, the tea almost slopping over. Melissa takes the cup and puts it on the table. Someone else will have to ask her those questions. She’ll give answers more easily to a counsellor than to the wife of the man who hurt her.

‘Should we tell anyone that we are going? I know you split up with your boyfriend, but maybe there’s someone—?’