As I stare at my daughter, I know she believes what she’s saying, but I have no idea how to respond. ‘It may seem like that now, but it won’t always feel like this. The last few days have been horrible – I know that. But the police are behind us and once we’re away from here, you’ll feel different. Everything passes, Niamh. Everything.’

As she calms slightly, I take a deep breath. ‘Whatever your father told you and everyone else, I had nothing to do with what happened to Dylan.’

I hear her sharp intake of breath as her eyes look up at mine. ‘I know he took my pills. But I kept them hidden in the bedroom. I honestly don’t recall leaving them out.’ It’s true. I don’t. But I’m not absolving myself of responsibility. I can’t.

Another sob escapes her. ‘It was an accident,’ I tell her gently. ‘One that should never have happened.’

Niamh stares at me. ‘You don’t know, do you?’

I frown at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

She looks stricken. ‘About what he told Dylan. It wasn’t an accident – not the way everyone thinks.’ Words tumble out of her, more words than she’s spoken in weeks, and my blood runs cold as Niamh tells me what she heard Andrew talking to Dylan about shortly before he killed himself.

How he told Dylan he was ashamed of him; that he would never be anyone Andrew could feel proud of. That it would be better for everyone if Dylan was dead.

My hatred of Andrew reaches new levels, my heart breaking all over again as I think about what Dylan must have gone through. Then I think of what Andrew has put Niamh through, what she’s kept silently, painfully, to herself since before Dylan died. ‘You should have told me this a long time ago.’ Suddenly I pull off my wedding ring. ‘The police need to know everything.’

‘No.’ The fear is back in Niamh’s eyes.

‘Niamh. He pushed Dylan over the edge. It’s the same emotional abuse he inflicts on us. It’s why Dylan took an overdose. This is really important.’

‘The police can’t know.’ Niamh’s eyes are like a rabbit’s caught in the headlights of a car. ‘Not ever.’

‘Why not?’ I study her face, puzzled. ‘What haven’t you told me?’

‘Nothing.’ She shakes her head, the shutters coming down.

I know she’s lying.

Giving Niamh some space, I put the kettle on and make two mugs of tea, taking them over to her when they’re ready.

‘Here.’ Passing her one, I sit down next to her. ‘Niamh, what you’ve just told me strengthens the case against your father, making it easier for the police to charge him.’

She shakes her head. ‘I won’t talk to them.’