Eva had given interview after interview – denying Piotr’s request for a never-ending exclusive – talking about everything from the risks of abuse to the long-term effects on human fertility. She questioned the accessories, the optional extras, the paid-for extras. But she made it clear that she thought that the pouch should remain available to the people who needed it. And to the people who chose it.

Together, Holly and Piotr had written the announcement about cancelling FullLife’s exclusive lease of the baby pouch patent. From now on, the design would be available for free to any and all registered hospitals. It wasn’t clear yet how any other hospitals would be able to afford to make it, but at least now they had a chance – and FullLife knew their monopoly was not going to last.

Then, on the day the director issued her resignation, Eva got a phone call. She told Piotr it was one of the strangest phone calls of her life. She was being invited to FullLife. They’d all expected that FullLife might want to talk to them; they were talking to everyone who had ever disagreed with them at the moment, trying to rebuild their image. But FullLife must have been more frightened than Piotr, or Holly, or Eva had realised. Or perhaps they genuinely wanted to make things better. Either way, they were inviting Eva in for more than advice.

Rosie wasn’t sure if she liked the idea. But she had to think about it – really think about it – after everything that had happened. It was just so different from how she’d imagined things would be. But then she didn’t think she’d want to go through it the same way again. She closed her eyes and tried to picture it, to feel it, the movement and the weight and the closeness. A baby inside her body. Sometimes you could feel their little hand, their curled fist, between your ribs. She’d read that yesterday. Was that beautiful or was it gross? She didn’t know. And there’d be no such thing as a break from it, if she didn’t like the feeling. But then, there was no such thing as a break from being a parent, was there? And perhaps she would love the feeling of being pregnant. Perhaps it would be beautiful.

She’d sent Kaz a text message the day after she’d told him to leave her alone, after he’d inexplicably chopped up their tree and she’d angrily ripped up her book of designs. I didn’t mean it, she’d written. I love you. Come home?

He’d arrived back from his dads’ house with red eyes and a potted plant, of all things.