The backup key is in a key safe under the deck. I rush to it now. This time the code works, the key falls out and I take it back to the front door. The lock opens with the key and we move inside, dripping on the hard wood. Could the rain have gotten into the lock and caused it to malfunction or has something else happened?

I strip, removing my blouse right there, dropping my shoes. I even unclip my soaking bra. Cain, oblivious, steps forward.

‘Wait,’ I say. ‘Get your shoes off.’ He looks down. I go closer, on one knee I untie the laces of his boots, pull them off and toss them back beside the door. ‘Stay here a moment.’ I rush to the linen cupboard and find towels for us both. Patting his face dry, stripping his jumper, his t-shirt, his pants, I take his clothes and dump them in the washing machine before helping him up the stairs to bed. He falls on the covers in his underwear. There’s a glass of water on the nightstand, and I decide I’ll take him activated charcoal and a bucket after my shower. I know by the rhythm of his breathing he is already asleep before I even turn the light out, but I’ll wake him through the night, check his breathing, his heart rate and feed him water.

Back downstairs I lock the door. The shadows in the corners and my reflection in the glass send my heart racing. I approach the back door slowly, eyes fixed on the lawn outside, and check it is locked. I turn the lights off, before rushing towards the glow coming down the stairs from the bathroom. The darkness presses me on faster, and when I reach the foot of the stairs, I’m almost running.