Liv didn’t stop until she’d swept every award and photo frame off the shelves. It did nothing to dampen the anger that still raged inside her. She kicked the wall for good measure and pain deadened her toes.

When she limped out of the room, she left a trail of glass chips shining like diamonds on the hallway carpet. She entered Essie’s writing room and treaded toward her desk. Liv shoved all the things off its top.

She didn’t know what the hell to believe.

She looked down at her hand and realized she was still holding the key. She’d held it so tightly, it had made a red imprint on her palm. The expression on Anthony’s face told her he recognized the address.

Liv clenched her fingers back around it. She pulled on her shoes, left the apartment and ran down all the stairs until she stood panting in the lobby.

Outside, she hailed a taxi and showed the driver the address on the slip of paper. She rammed her seat belt into its fastener, trapping a slither of skin on the side of her hand. She cried out and rubbed the red weal.

Slumping down, she stared out of the window, unable to take in the roads and buildings as they rolled past. Her vision became a blur and she soon lost track of where she was in the city. It only seemed like seconds later when the taxi pulled up on a crescent of tall white houses. The driver said the fare was fifteen pounds and Liv pushed a twenty into his hand and scrambled out of the car.

The city was silhouetted in the distance and Essie’s apartment block rose above it, giving her the middle finger.

There was a high concentration of young people streaming up and down the street, and Liv realized she must be close to the university. Her ankles threatened to give way as she counted down the numbers on the houses until she stood outside the one on the label, number 25.

The white Georgian house was run-down with stained walls, a missing gate and windows with lots of panes, several cracked. It looked like a building from a Charles Dickens novel. Next to the front door were several doorbells, as if the building had been converted into apartments at some point. Bob Marley blared from one of the top stories.

What was this place?

As Liv hesitated on the pavement, a thought streamed in her head like the banner across the screen on a twenty-four-hour news channel. Essie had an affair with my dad. Essie had an affair with my dad.

The thought twisted her gut, and she bent her head to take deep gulps of air. She saw the feet of people passing her, scuffed Doc Martens and worn running shoes. Some hesitated, but everyone moved on.