Molly turned the tap on to wash all traces away. Rinsing out her mug, she spooned coffee in and filled it from the kettle.

‘Damn,’ she said, turning to stare into the sink. She should have kept it and given it to the inspector to have analysed. It would have confirmed her suspicion or set her mind at rest. Either would have been good. He’d probably have thought she was barking mad, but she wouldn’t have cared. But it was too late.

She was considering whether she should ring the inspector and keep him up to date when the sound of the front door opening startled her, eyes wide and staring as she listened to the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen door. Panicking, she looked around, her hand reaching for the biggest knife attached to the magnetic strip on the wall. As she grabbed it, her hand slipped and the knife clattered onto the counter.

‘Hi.’

Jack’s voice. Of course, it was Jack. Letting her breath out in a whoosh, she turned and almost ran to him, feeling his arms close around her. Ignoring the twinge from her broken rib, she snuggled deeper into him as if to burrow for safety.

‘You’re okay,’ he whispered into her hair. Resting his chin on her head, he continued to hold her.

In the safe circle of his arms, the trembling eased and the fear faded a little. After a few minutes, she pulled back and looked at him. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’ She kept her eyes fixed on his; she could tell so much from the light that glinted in them, sometimes baby-blue soft, sometimes almost steely-grey. When they turned soft, when he bent his head and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, she felt a release of the tension that was wound so tight it hurt more than her broken rib.

‘What choice do I have?’

She’d have preferred a straightforward yes, but she wasn’t in a situation where she could be picky. ‘Thank you,’ she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘Are you feeling okay?’ he asked, pushing her away gently. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair. ‘You look so pale.’

‘I was feeling awful. Amelia had to–’

‘Amelia?’ he interrupted. ‘What the hell was she doing here?’

Molly moved to the sofa and sat, her movements slow and laboured. Her side was painful, she needed to take more painkillers. ‘She called around when she heard about the accident. We had tea and talked. Afterwards, I was feeling so weak, she had to help me up the stairs.’

There was no point in telling him that Amelia had made the tea and that she was afraid she might have put something in it. He’d think she was crazy.