It was easier this time, in a way. Shedding their clothes as they’d done before and coming together under a blanket on the couch – all of these actions had already been played out between them. There was a moment of resistance, but she fought against it in her mind, silencing the nagging doubt. She had come to this party in the full knowledge that sex was on the cards, and so what if he was operating at a pace that was faster than her desire? She never told him to stop, even though it felt like she was trying to get him to slow down but he wouldn’t listen.

Afterwards, when it was over, she curled up into a corner of the couch, her cheek pressed against the leather, and she closed her eyes and thought about an old chair in her grandparents’ house that had smelled like this, horsehair tufting loose from a split in the seam.

‘Hey, Eva?’

Distantly, she heard him, like he was calling to her from another room. Pressure on her back, his hand shaking her.

‘Hey, come on. Wake up.’

How long had she been asleep? Her breasts were sore, the room colder now, drawing goosebumps over her flesh. The dryness in her mouth felt huge; it was difficult to swallow. Her skin peeled away from the leather as she tried to lift her head.

‘Check this out,’ she heard him say, but the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling was too bright and she had to look away, a dizziness announcing itself.

‘Come on, Eva, look,’ he said, his voice louder now, impatient with her, and she tried to sit up, rubbing her eyes, flakes of crust caught in mascara. She blinked her eyes open and saw the gun.

‘Where’d you get that?’ she asked, instinctively drawing back into the couch.

‘It’s my dad’s.’ He was holding the gun out for her to see. ‘He keeps it for protection. You know – just in case.’

‘I thought you said he wasn’t involved in anything dangerous. That it was just business.’ He wasn’t pointing the gun at her, but still she felt the threat of it.

‘It is … Hey, what’s wrong? Are you mad at me?’

‘No.’ She was dressing quickly, her heart strobing in her chest.

‘Then why are you being like this? Hey, where are you going?’

She was at the door, pausing to put her shoes on.

‘Alicia’s probably looking for me.’

‘Come on, don’t go. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was just fucking around. You know it’s not loaded, right? I didn’t mean to frighten you—’

She shut the door and hurried out through the wrought-iron gate, stumbling back up through the garden, tripping over shrubs, the heel of her shoe sinking into the soil. Glancing back, she kept expecting to see him running after her, waiting to hear him shouting her name. But she didn’t stop.