I knew it the moment the police first came to my door, though Stacey had to spell out her message with brutal clarity for me to accept it.

Deep down, I think I always knew it. I was never meant to have friends. I belong in the shadows, in dark places where it’s safer to venture alone. But I let my vanity get the better of me: Stacey made me feel I was the only one who could save her. The very first time we met she read me for clues like a fairground psychic. As soon as she saw my response to the bruises on her arms, she knew exactly which buttons she had to press. I thought I was the one in control: congratulating myself when I persuaded her to come to the hospital gala, preening when she copied my clothes and hair.

And the truth is she was pulling my strings from the very beginning.

Tom was right when he said she didn’t really want to sell the house: I remember her face when she showed us around, stroking her countertops, tweaking her blinds. I thought I was so clever wooing her into finally agreeing to part with it.

But she never had any intention of selling it to me. She simply used the Glass House as bait.

Tom saw the danger long before I did. He saw it, and he tried to tell me, and I wouldn’t listen. I was convinced Stacey and I had a connection that went beyond the Glass House, beyond our shared experience of domestic violence.

Part of me actually admires Stacey for what she’s done. I showed weakness, and she took advantage of it: that’s on me, not her. She achieved something I’d never have believed possible: she made me realise how lonely I was. For years, Tom was enough for me, but Stacey showed me a glimpse of the mysterious and intimate world of female friendship from which I’d excluded myself for so long, and I finally understood what I’d been missing. I dared to dream I might be allowed to be part of it, to have what everyone else took for granted.

And then she showed me what a fool I was.

Stacey has reminded me who I really am. My pride is dented, but I’ll regroup. It’s time I stopped trying to abide by everyone else’s rules. I didn’t choose this path, but I absolutely will not be destroyed by it.

‘Millie?’ Tom says again. ‘What are you going to do?’

chapter 51

millie