‘What are you doing?’ I asked. ‘Ben?’

‘You have to stay here,’ he said. His voice came through a speaker built into the ceiling.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You have to stay here,’ he replied emphatically, and he raised his head and looked me in the eye. ‘It’s the only way.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I banged on the glass again. ‘Open the door.’

‘It has to be this way.’

‘No! What about Elliot?’ My voice was shredded by anguish. Why was he doing this? ‘Please, Ben. Don’t.’

‘I have to,’ Ben replied, his tears falling fast now. ‘Remember what you said? You said you’d do anything to bring her back. Sacrifice anything.’ He choked on the words and took a deep breath. ‘This is the price.’

‘Not my son!’ I yelled, hammering frantically. ‘No. Not Elliot. Let me in. Take us back. Please.’

Ben shook his head. ‘I can’t. That loss. The loss of both of you. He carries it forever. It inspires him to do something truly amazing.’

‘You don’t have to do this!’ I kicked the door. ‘You can’t.’

‘I have to. If you go back, none of this can happen. Time isn’t what you think it is. This is the way it was. This is the way it has to be.’

I wept freely, thinking about my son, alone and abandoned. I pictured him lost, trapped an age away from us, and as I imagined him frightened and alone, grieving for us, my angry blows grew weak and pathetic.

I wanted Beth.

I wanted her so much, but not like this.

‘Please,’ I begged Ben. ‘I never even got to say goodbye.’

‘You do,’ Ben replied quietly. ‘One day you do.’

He reached beneath his top and produced something small and shiny. I looked closer and realized it was the necklace I’d given Elliot, the one that had belonged to his mother.

The stars and moon and the word ‘Beth’ gleamed at me, shining as brightly as the truth.

‘You were right. She is always with me. You both are.’ Ben pressed his fist to his heart.

My legs went weak and my head spun as the dazzling glare of realization hit me. Everything came together in a single moment of profound revelation.

‘Elliot?’ I asked, barely able to form the word.

My son.

A grown man I had known for years as my friend.

My son.

I saw it all. The resemblance. The rumours Elliot was his child. Our connection. The love I felt for him. I looked at Ben and I saw myself. I saw Beth. This was our boy.

This was our boy grown.

He nodded.

‘I’m sorry.’ He choked the words out. ‘I’m sorry. Look after her. I have to go.’

‘Please,’ I said, finding my strength. I battered the door with my fists. ‘Please. Take us with you. Please.’

He stared at me for a moment, and I saw raw pain. My words had affected him deeply, but they weren’t enough. He shook his head.