Suddenly she was squeezing out of my grasp and rushing past me. I spun around to see Marty lying on the stone floor, his leg propped up on a pew. He hugged Bella with one arm, holding the other against his thigh.

‘You found our little girl.’ Marty leant forward to kiss me. ‘Thank you.’

My instinct had been right—the crazy women had injured him.

‘Can you tie this tourniquet tighter for me?’ Blood stained his hand and his jeans. ‘I need to get to hospital …’

Kneeling next to him, I pulled on the ends of the tourniquet, wrapping it tighter around the top of his leg; the wound was hidden under his jeans. It seemed unlikely that he’d be able to walk up the track to my car. Would Mel and Deirdre flee from here with Sammy alone, or were they still determined to ‘rescue’ Bella? How long could we afford to wait before checking to see if they’d gone? How long did Marty have? He rested his body against me.

‘Bella, why was she calling you Sarah?’

‘Mel said it was my new name. But it’s not. I’m Bella. Tinker Bell. Bella Ball-er-ina. I’m NOT Sarah.’

‘Sarah Hayden,’ Marty explained. ‘She blames me for her death.’

I recognised the name from the hospital inquiry, but what did Mel Wainwright have to do with Sarah Hayden? Even though I knew better now than to believe Mel’s accusations, a hard ball of doubt was still lodged inside me.

‘She said you killed Archie. Did you?’

Marty’s body jerked. Pain lined his face. He took my hands in his.

‘No, Lexie. No.’ His answer was so soft that I could barely hear it.

‘Then why wouldn’t you talk about him? Why wouldn’t you go to the grave?’

‘I couldn’t forgive myself,’ he groaned.

Oh my God, he had killed our son. I jumped up and moved away from him, scooping up Bella. I couldn’t be near this man.

‘Christ, Lexie, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t. I promise you.’

‘What then?’

‘I …’ He hesitated, unable to look at me. Instead, he focused on our daughter, who was wriggling in my arms. ‘You know I made a pledge when I became a doctor. I pledged to maintain the utmost respect for human life.’

‘Yes.’

‘Ten or fifteen years ago, Archie would have died shortly after birth but now, with medical technology …’

I said nothing, waiting for his confession.

‘At work, between patients, I’d research other cases to try to find new treatments. I connected with an Englishwoman, Lorraine—she had a brain-injured thirty-year-old. The cycle of care was never-ending.’

Marty started weeping silently.