I didn’t answer, and we reached the bathroom in silence.

‘There you go,’ I said, not wanting to get drawn into his discussion about good girls and how close we were.

He stopped and looked at me. The way he always did. The way that stripped away all my layers, emotional and physical.

‘Will you wait there ’til I’m done?’ he asked. ‘I’m not sure I can walk back myself.’

‘Yes,’ I muttered. I’d say as little as I could to get through this ordeal as quickly as I could.

‘Good girl,’ he said again and I felt another layer slip away.

Good girl. He used to say that then, too.

I closed the bathroom door between us and did my best to gulp some air, to try to steady my stomach. What I wanted to do was go back downstairs, or leave. But I knew they’d see it, all over my face. Shame leaves its mark.

I could feel my resolve to stay calm waver. Could feel heat prickling at the back of my neck, unshed tears stinging my eyes. I jumped when the bathroom door opened and he hobbled back out, grabbing on to my arm again. My whole body cringed, tensed with his touch.

When we got to his room, he sat on the side of the bed again. Took some deep breaths. He did look pale. Shaky. Unsure of himself. I revelled in that for a moment or two.

‘Could you help me?’ he asked, and I didn’t know what he meant.

‘Help me into bed,’ he added. ‘Like a good girl.’

There was something in the way he said it, something in the expression on his face that made me snap. I couldn’t do this any more.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Heidi

Now

I can hear Ciara moving around downstairs. I can hear her talking to someone. The noise is too muffled to make out whether she is talking to herself or maybe on the phone. I should have taken her mobile and thrown it across the room, too.

I look at my watch. It’s seventeen minutes since she spoke to Alex and he’s not here yet. I start to wonder, did she really speak to him at all? She could’ve faked the call for all I know. This could all be another move in her game. She is smarter than I’d ever given her credit for.

She’d painted a very public picture of me being on the brink of a breakdown while she’d, for all intents and purposes, maintained her poise. Any outpouring of emotion she’d shown had been perfectly in keeping with a grieving daughter.

And she was his daughter, after all. His blood ran in her veins. His sick and twisted blood.

I put Lily, who is now sleeping, into the centre of the bed, placing pillows on either side of her so that she can’t roll off, then kneel down and put my ear to the ground to see if I can make out exactly what Ciara is saying and to whom.