As the doors open, the intense heat of the apartment makes me flinch.

‘Casey? Angelica?’

The silence creeps me out. They should both be at home by now. The words of explanation I’ve been planning are drowned out by the hum of panic in my ears.

‘We’re in here.’

I can hear that: Angelica’s voice, sharp and threatening.

Coming from the bedroom. My bedroom. Well, Vijay’s bedroom. And as I step inside and see their faces, I realize instantly that I am too late.

Casey already knows that I’ve lied. Everything I’ve built in the last few weeks is lost. Worst of all, I have nobody to blame but myself.

Chapter 39: Gemma

Thursday 26 July

No balloons this morning: the sky’s the colour of ashes, and any minute it’ll be split in two by lightning. I hurry Bear out of the door, so we can be home again before the downpour begins.

There’s been no more blood. And though my body keeps reporting new sensations – tenderness, dizziness, another bout of nausea when I serve Bear his corned-beef and kibble breakfast – I pretend it’s not happening. This limbo ends on Saturday, but until then I am resolutely in denial about everything.

My phone buzzes. In the seconds it takes me to get it out of my bag I’ve imagined a dozen messages Dan might have written.

But it’s my agent: I sent her my finished illustrations last night.

Back on form, G! I’ll be sending more pitches your way next week!

I’ve always rewarded myself for finishing a job with a cheese and mushroom croissant. I buy one at the patisserie now, but it tastes wrong. The last one I had was on the Downs with Dan and Casey, so maybe that’s why.

The first spits of rain hit as I’m opening the gate, and I’m fumbling for my key when I hear my name being called. I turn to see my sister getting out of her car.

‘Laura! This is a surprise, I didn’t think you were working today.’

But she doesn’t smile back: her expression chills me. ‘I’m not. I came to see you. I . . . have something I need to tell you.’

‘What is it? Is it Dad? Mum?’

‘No. Nobody’s died or anything.’

‘So what is it?’

‘Can we go inside?’

As I let her in, I think of all the other times she must have stood on doorsteps, knowing that she was about to shatter someone’s world.

She won’t let me make tea, even though my hands twitch with nervous energy, desperate to do something to delay finding out whatever she’s here to tell me.

‘Have you seen that man again?’ she asks when I finally sit down.

‘Dan? No.’ So whatever it is you want to tell me, don’t bother.

‘And do you plan to?’ She’s still standing, blocking the light from the window.

‘OK, Laura, I know you don’t like him. But you can let it go, because Dan and I are not going to be an item anyway now and—’