He looked back at her, reaching out an arm and stroking her hair. ‘You’ll always have me, Hanna.’

‘Do you promise?’ she whispered.

‘I promise. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health.’

Hanna stood in the door frame, tanned, flushed and very beautiful in a soaked-through navy cotton sundress. She had crossed the lagoon in the storm to get here, her hair dripping puddles onto the floor. She hugged her son back, but her gaze was firmly fixed on her ex.

‘Don’t worry, Hanna,’ Dr Sorensen said calmly, seeing her concern. She walked over to the bedside and began carefully removing the sensors attached to Emil’s scalp. ‘I was just running an EEG. It’s a concussion.’

‘But Cathy, for him –’ She was in panic mode, her eyes darting every which way.

‘I know – the potential complications are far more worrisome. We need to monitor him very carefully over the next few days.’ She shot another stern look his way again. ‘But I’m cautiously optimistic he’s going to get away with this one.’

‘Oh thank God,’ Hanna gasped, seeming to fold in on herself, crouching down further over Linus and holding him even closer. Relaxing, finally.

Bell watched Emil observe the scene – his family gathered in one room, for him, frantic with worry – and she knew that whatever realities kept them apart now – Max, the twins – there was still love here.

She wondered briefly who had called Hanna – Måns? – and she felt bad that it hadn’t even crossed her mind. After what Hanna had told her about their bitter last meeting, she had thought she’d be the last person who’d want to hear.

She watched as Linus tightened his arms around his mother’s waist and she kissed the top of his head. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ Hanna whispered into his hair, before returning her gaze to Emil again, silent on the bed.

Bell sensed a pause between them, as though they were gauging one another first. As though something was shifting. And then a silent agreement was understood.

Tenderly, Hanna extricated herself from her son’s grasp, ruffling his hair softly. ‘Let me go and say hello to your father.’ She crossed the room, an expression on her face that Bell couldn’t quite place. ‘You’re okay?’ she asked, hesitating for a moment and then reaching for his hand.

Emil looked at it, and Bell saw him squeeze her fingers lightly. Hanna sank onto the edge of the bed, as though something strong had left her body.

‘I’m fine. This fuss is embarrassing. Anyone else would be told to take some paracetamol and have a lie down.’

‘Well, you’re not just anyone,’ Hanna chided softly, her eyes roaming over him looking for wounds as Bell’s had, watching as Dr Sorensen removed the last of the sensors from his scalp and packed them into a case. Gently, Hanna reached forward and rearranged his hair, rustling it affectionately too, as she had just done for their son. ‘There. Better.’