Yet despite all that, I’d gotten on the first plane back home, desperate to be reunited with her. By then though, she’d disappeared into the black abyss of the subway system and every time I got close to her, she’d slip through my grasp.

Aunt Meryl had given her my email address, and every week I wondered if she would ever reach out. And just when I’d convinced myself I’d never see that little girl again, a note popped into my inbox, telling me that she had to come to England because she needed to be with me. I didn’t have to be told twice. I wired five hundred dollars to the account she quoted and waited at Heathrow airport for her flight to land. But to my surprise, though I imagine not to anyone else’s, she was nowhere to be seen and I haven’t heard from her in almost fifteen years. But as much as it hurt, I’ve made my peace with it, because it gave me closure on my past. At least it had, until now.

‘How . . . how is she?’ I ask.

‘Oh, so much better,’ says Aunt Meryl. ‘She’s not long out of rehab and looks really well. She’s got herself a job too – it looks like she’s finally turned her life around.’

I want to believe her, but there’s a nagging doubt that’s pulling me back. ‘Where is she now?’ I ask.

‘She’s back out on Long Island,’ she says. ‘She’s got herself a condo, just a rental, but it’s a start.’

I couldn’t ever imagine going back to where it all happened. I’d rather be anywhere than there. Even the metro system? I ask myself.

‘She was asking about you,’ Aunt Meryl goes on.

That’s what I feared, though I don’t know if I’m more frightened of the past or the present. ‘I can’t go through that again,’ I say.

‘I know how disappointed you were, sweetheart, but I really do think it will be different this time.’

‘Has she seen him?’ I ask, unable to say his name.

‘Yes,’ says Aunt Meryl.

Hot, angry tears instantly jump to my eyes at the thought of my vulnerable sister and manipulative father together. I imagine her sitting opposite him in a booth at Daisy Gray’s, open-mouthed as he tells her his version of what really happened that night. What would she make of the lies he’ll tell her I told the judge? How would she feel if he tells her it was my fault we went into care and if it weren’t for me she’d have lived a very different life? She hates me enough already and with a little help from him, she’ll hate me even more.

‘She thinks he’s paid his penance,’ says Aunt Meryl, her words only adding to my spiralling despair.