Melissa’s hands tighten on the arms of the chair. The car that was sliding over the road has hit the bank and overturned. Her life has smashed to pieces. It was Izzy, not Paul. Her daughter, not her husband. He’d tried to tell her. ‘She’s ill, Melly,’ he’d said. ‘You need to get her some sort of help.’ How was she to know, after all his lies, that he was finally telling the truth and that it was Izzy who’d been lying all along?

‘So you ran upstairs today because you were scared.’ The policewoman’s tone is soothing. Sorrel stares at her with unblinking eyes. ‘I’m wondering if you can tell us what scared you so much?’

The kitchen is silent, though there are lots of little background noises. The humming of the fridge, the cat purring, the children shifting positions on the floor, the dog sighing, the comforting sounds of everyday life.

‘When she fed the pony she put her hand over his nose, I thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Then I remembered she did the same thing to Ash and he couldn’t breathe.’ She pushes into her mother, twisting the blue horse in her hands; her voice lowers to a whisper. ‘He went all still after a bit.’

The silence in the kitchen deepens, even the comforting noises seem to stop. Everyone is holding their breath. Sorrel looks up at Eve as if checking she is still there; Eve kisses her; her face is blank as though wiped clean by horror.

‘I’ve already been told a little bit about what happened to your brother,’ the policewoman murmurs gently. ‘It would be so helpful if you could tell me more, just so I can get it straight in my mind. So you were there in your brother’s room …’

‘Yes, I was.’ Sorrel nods several times; her eyes are very wide. ‘I went to see him because he wouldn’t stop crying, but Izzy was already there. She had her hand tight over his face then she took her hand off, then she put it back like she was playing a game.’

Eve closes her eyes. Melissa wants to get up and run away, anywhere but here. She doesn’t want to hear these words that will be in her mind forever; she will never be rid of the pictures that go with them.

‘She picked him up.’ Sorrel is twisting the horse round and round in her hands. ‘His head was hanging in a funny way, a bit like a doll.’ She looks at Eve again; her voice gets higher. ‘She looked up and saw me.’ Eve’s lips tighten but her hand strokes Sorrel’s hair gently.

‘And then?’ the policewoman prompts quietly after a while. ‘What happened then, Sorrel?’