This is where she came with her mother all those years ago. She was that girl in pyjamas hovering by Sally Groves’s side.

‘What did she take?’

‘What?’ Oli could still taste her mother’s vomit on her lips.

‘Do you know what she took?’

‘I don’t know.’

New faces appeared, and Sally disappeared into the bright lights.

‘Do you have any idea what made her do this?’ a doctor asked.

Dazed, Oli thought about the horrible secrets in her diary. The words that Sally had read. Things she must have known deep down but had somehow managed to ignore.

The paramedic squeezed Oli’s arm. ‘Hey, you did really well tonight. You saved her life.’

Oli went to the front desk to call Lily, trying not to think the awful thing. That if Sally didn’t wake up, Oli wouldn’t have to acknowledge what her dad had done to her, that they would never need to discuss it.

The hospital is different now, remodelled and sleek with creamy-white low lights and large potted plants. A crying woman hurtles past, clipping Oli’s elbow. She reels sideways, increasingly panicked. But Sally had made it, surely Cooper will too.

Oli follows the signs, praying as she rushes into the crowded waiting room. Several children are crying. A little girl circles a toy train around an ancient wooden track, staring solemnly at all the adults in the room. A shocked-looking couple hold wads of tissues, their eyes leaking as they stare at the carpet.

Phones ring.

Oli feels like she’s standing on air.

A blur of blue. Cops.

She staggers to a stop. Rusty is standing with two other officers, talking to a doctor. ‘Rusty,’ she breathes, hands on her hips.

The cops and the doctor exchange glances. Rusty steps away from the group, his arms out in front of him. The world blurs as she lets him hug her, her face pressed to his chest.

‘I’m really sorry, Oli.’ Rusty’s heartbeat is strong and steady through his shirt, his breath hot on her scalp. ‘Cooper didn’t make it.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

COOPER LOOKS IMPOSSIBLY PALE AGAINST THE WHITE SHEETS. OLI stands at the end of the hospital bed and sobs. ‘God!’ she cries out. She covers her face with her hands. Brushes away the tears that drip down her face. The anger that burns through her is overwhelming. She wants to destroy something. Smash a window. Shake Cooper until he wakes up. She rounds the bed and moves closer to his face. His hair is still thick with wax and stands in a peak. The sheet sits across his neck. She imagines the damage underneath.

How could anyone hurt him?

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she whispers, over and over. ‘I’m so fucking sorry.’

He doesn’t move, but she can almost hear his wry reply.