‘There are so many clever phrases for it all now, aren’t there? You can be traumatized or triggered. You can need a safe space or a safe word. It’s what we used to call being wrapped up in cotton wool.’

Amber’s stare was intense.

‘When you hired me, you seemed genuinely scared for Rachel’s physical safety. And I think you were right to be. I’d just bear that in mind, Lily.’

It sounded like a threat. It wasn’t the words themselves; it was the way she uttered them. She was warning me.

‘She’s my flesh and blood,’ I said, picking up my bag and turning on my heel. ‘Not yours.’

I should have listened. I should have listened to her warning.

RACHEL

It was Christmas Eve. Paddington Station hummed with kinetic energy – hundreds of people were crowded around ticket machines and departure boards, rushing for platforms with their huge suitcases dragging behind them, all manically focused on reuniting with their families for the Christmas break. I seesawed between loneliness and relief as I wheeled my own case – feather-light from the lack of presents – across the concourse. How many of them were silently dreading the drunken Brexit disputes and petty rows over the remote control? But how about the others? The parents looking forward to constructing their kids’ Christmas stockings, or people kept apart from far-flung, beloved siblings all year long? How could I not envy them?

I blinked away the tears that prickled behind my eyes, joining the long coffee queue that snaked its way across the station floor. Amber was always encouraging me to choose acceptance. This was my life: all I could do was carve out the best possible choices from the circumstances that existed. And spending Christmas with my family was a total non-starter.

I’d started to fire up a spark of triumph by the time I was asking for my double-shot latte. Mum had been convinced I’d break, that I’d come crawling back for her hulking organic turkey and excruciating selection of Christmas mocktails (San Pellegrino with a twist for our little alcoholic?). Instead I was running free. Amber knew where I was, and Mum didn’t. I was my own woman; an emotional orphan, in charge of my own destiny.