‘Amber…’ I said, my hand splayed across my mouth like I might vomit. Her face was alight now, her power absolute. Some sick part of her was enjoying this.

‘I know it’s a shock,’ she said, leaning across to gently touch my hand, her old persona flooding back suddenly. Her shape-shifting was terrifying to me. ‘But some part of you knew, I’m sure. Some unconscious part of you had to grieve that lost sibling.’

A sound that wasn’t quite a word escaped from my lips. Memories were flinging up, shape-shifting the same way that Amber was. That day I found them together: was a baby already forcing its way into existence as I backed out of the room? A secret presence, hidden deep inside? I saw Esther’s face now, a snapshot in time. She didn’t look sly anymore; she looked stricken.

‘I’m so sorry…’ Shame flooded me, my family’s sins a single, crushing weight. All those years that I’d hated Esther – it was nothing but that trick mirror. It was so much easier to be fuelled by bile: now I was felled by disgust at how we’d treated her.

‘You’re sorry, Rachel?’ she said, cocking her head. ‘It wasn’t you,’ she added softly. ‘It was all your parents. You’ve done nothing but try to make things right. The fact is, it’s an impossible task; they’re beyond redemption. This is the final piece. Now you can begin to make a real difference.’

My thoughts were scrambling again, trying to make sense of what I knew and what I didn’t. ‘What happened to the baby?’ I stuttered, even though some part of me already knew. A sick kind of anticipation lurched inside me as she carried on.

‘Your mother found out about the affair…’

‘From me?’

‘From you,’ she confirmed, looking almost proud. Coldness slithered down my spine. It hadn’t been pure spin – in some twisted way Amber did care for me. I didn’t know if that was better or far, far worse. ‘And then she found out Esther was pregnant.’

‘But…’ It was so hard to form a coherent sentence – no wonder the one that finally came from my lips was so naive. ‘Where’s the baby now?’

The look on Amber’s face made her words almost irrelevant. ‘There is no baby, Rachel. Not now. Your mother convinced her to scrape it down a drain.’

I buried my face in my hands – felt the deathly coldness of my skin against my palms. ‘Does Dad even know?’ I whispered.

‘She paid her off, made her promise not to tell anyone, including him,’ Amber said. As I let my eyes peel upwards, I met her ice-chip gaze. ‘Your mother spends her Christmases unwrapping Barbies and Lego with her grandchildren, while we’re left with nothing.’ A smile briefly slashed its way across her face. ‘Well, most years at least.’