‘Weren’t you scared?’ I ask. ‘Walking right into his house, thinking he could have killed … well, your mother?’

‘Terrified,’ says Liberty. ‘I nearly didn’t go through with it. But I had my phone with me. I had Skywalker.’

‘What if Michael had found your phone and taken it?’

‘That wouldn’t have happened,’ says Liberty.

‘Why not?’

‘I would have set Skywalker on him. I made sure we were never separated.’

‘He owns a collection of shotguns, Liberty.’

‘I know. But I told you. Skywalker sniffed them out and we put them out of action.’ She taps her nose. ‘Chess player, mother. Chess player. Many moves ahead.’

‘Mother. You’re still okay to call me that?’

‘Of course I am. I told you. I’ve known for years we’re not related. It’s never mattered to me. And when I found all those articles – all that stuff you said about him – I pieced everything together. Who my real mother must be, what must have happened to her. I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t lie about what happened to Annalise.’

I stare at her. ‘And what … you just didn’t care that I’m not your real mother? You didn’t say a word to me about it?’

‘I’ve known my whole life you were hiding something. It was a relief really. I mean, it could have been much worse. And what’s biology anyway? Michael Reyji Ray is my biology. A man who wears sunglasses indoors. Biology doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t take care of you. It doesn’t love you. It doesn’t mean anything.’

‘And you worked out who your real mother was?’

‘Yes,’ says Liberty. ‘If Annalise was staying with Michael, like you said in those articles, I figured there must be some kind of sexual relationship going on. And if she got pregnant with me underage, it would have given Michael a reason to, you know … get rid of her.’

‘And how do you feel about that? That your real mother died? And how she died?’

‘How do I feel? Awful. Terrible. It’s really sad. But it’s okay. I got you as a mother instead.’

Happily ever after …

‘If they do leave us in the forest, we’ll find our way home,’ said Hansel to his sister.

Crash!

The final piece of fencing falls down and light floods into the kitchen.

Nick and I watch from the kitchen, listening to the radio play ‘It’s a Wonderful World’.

‘There it goes,’ I say. ‘Our old, safe little space. Bulldozed.’

‘The best decision you ever made, Lorna,’ says Nick. ‘It feels great. All this light.’

‘I’ll tell you a bad decision,’ I say. ‘This vegan cheese. I should have paid more for the cashew nut stuff. I mean look at this.’ I give the yellow cube a prod. ‘It feels like a pencil eraser and smells like feet.’