‘I keep thinking about you leaving tomorrow,’ Ellie says, her voice still tiny. ‘Or today now. I’m scared about being left here without you.’

Katherine’s heart swells so much that she catches her breath. No one has ever needed her before. She’s excited about her trip to Australia, meeting her dad for the first time, and starting a new life ten thousand miles away from Becca, but she hates the thought of leaving Ellie. She stares into her friend’s eyes; the white bits glistening in the strip of light that’s seeping over Katherine’s door, and the brown irises reminding her of exotic gems. ‘We can stay in touch,’ she whispers back. ‘Maybe you could visit me in Australia?’

Ellie shakes her head vehemently, then shivers. ‘It’s freezing out here. Can I get in with you?’

Katherine can’t quite believe what’s happening, and wonders for a moment if it’s not. If this is all a dream, a generous gift on her last night at the unit. She pinches her thigh to check and enjoys the sting of pain it creates. She slowly lifts the duvet, and shuffles back towards the wall, rolling onto her back. Suddenly they’re lying next to each other, attached at the joints, two halves of a whole, staring at the ceiling.

‘Do you think you’re fixed?’ Ellie asks. ‘From your illness?’

Katherine thinks about the question. She’s relieved that the police aren’t pressing any charges for the road accident. Against her or the driver, so she won’t have to carry the guilt of ruining someone else’s life on top of Becca’s. And she’s more optimistic about the future than she’s been since the accident. But how can the darkness inside her ever fully disappear after what happened to Becca? She runs her fingers over the deep scar on her wrist. ‘I don’t feel suicidal anymore,’ she says, ‘but the rest, I don’t know; it’s hard to feel good about myself.’ She wants Ellie to respond, to tell her she’s got every right to, but her friend stays mute. Katherine listens to the soft swish of Ellie’s hands wringing underneath the duvet.

‘I’m not fixed,’ Ellie finally says.

‘You will be soon.’ Katherine hopes she sounds genuine. She’s out of her depth really, trying to counsel; she can barely function herself. But Ellie is her best friend. And it’s easier to scrabble for something to say in the dark.

‘I wash my hands a hundred times a day. When I’m not washing them, I’m imagining disgusting things worming their way into my skin. Then I wash them again.’

‘Why do you do that?’ Katherine whispers, her heart thudding, hoping she’s not breaking some unknown therapy rule.