It was like that, multiplied by ten. She was no more than an observer of facts. There was a room. She was in it. She was alone.

None of them meant anything. At least, not at first.

And then what they meant came back to her. She was a prisoner. She had a calendar, and it told her she had been here for four years. She had parents and a brother.

She had a son.

A son called Seb.

The memories hit her in a rush. The man, choking her, grabbing Seb. Her crying out. The darkness bleeding into her vision and taking over.

Her son, gone.

She sat upright. Her throat hurt and she pressed her fingers to it. It was bruised and tender.

She didn’t care.

‘Seb!’ she shouted. ‘Seb! Are you there? Seb!’

The only answer was silence.

She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes wide in horror. The man had taken him. He had taken her son.

And he would not be bringing him back. She would beg, of course she would, but it would make no difference. She knew that already.

Seb was gone, and she would never see him again. The boy she had given birth to, cradled and fed, kissed, read to, played with. The boy for whom she had dreamed of a future out of here, a future with friends and love and family. The boy she had loved, in a way she had never known was possible.

That boy was gone. It was as though someone had ripped away a part of her, the best and most important part, and left behind half a person, a shell, a worthless, pointless husk.

How could she live without him? How would it be possible?

She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to live, not without her son.

But the man would make her. He would force her to carry on.

She let out a low, keening moan and lay on her side, her knees hugged to her chest. This was worse than she had ever imagined possible, and it was never going to end.

Eight Years Earlier: Wednesday, 18 August 2010

1

It’s fine, Sandra had said. You go. Colin can bring me home. I don’t mind at all.

It was her umpteenth chemo session. Martin had a meeting with a difficult client and he could not be sure he would be able to get away in time to bring her home. If she was honest, she would have liked him there, but they couldn’t put their whole lives on hold because of her treatment.