‘I think it’s glass,’ he says, wincing in pain.

I frown. ‘How did that happen?’

He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. I stood in it, just now.’

‘Stood in glass?’ I reply, confused. ‘Where?’

‘In the living room,’ he answers, grimacing tightly.

I drop the wet clothes on the table and peer at his foot. Dusk has fallen and it’s not the best light, but I can still see two big shards of glass sticking out of his sole, and a couple of smaller splinters too, beading with blood.

‘Shall I get some tweezers?’ I ask.

‘Yeah,’ he grunts, biting his lip.

I run upstairs and fetch a pair from my washbag, returning quickly to the kitchen. ‘Do you want me to do it?’ I say.

He nods. First, I fetch the candles from the drawer and light a couple, setting them on the table. Then I take the torch and kneel down and examine his foot. ‘Where did the glass come from?’ I wonder out loud as I grip one of the bigger splinters and twist and yank at the same time.

Liam lets out a yell and I hold his ankle tight to keep him still. I get a grip on the second piece of glass and start to pull that out, but Liam jerks. The splinter is crushed by the tweezers and half of it remains buried in his flesh.

‘Christ,’ he shouts. ‘Did you get it?’

I examine his foot. ‘No, there’s still some in there.’

He glowers at me. ‘Shit.’

‘I could try again,’ I offer but he grabs the tweezers off me. ‘God, no, let me do it.’

I hand the tweezers and the torch over and then take a candle and walk into the front room, treading lightly and slowly towards the fireplace to make sure I don’t tread in any glass myself. I spot the shards immediately, glinting in the light. They’re scattered on the rug by the corner of the sofa. I kneel down and examine them. They looks like they come from an ornament of some kind. I pick up a shard and look closer. It’s part of a wing.

‘What is it?’

I look up and see Liam has hopped into the room and is leaning against the arm of the chair. I show him. ‘It looks like an angel.’

Liam stares at the fragment in my palm and I watch him turn pale. He takes it from me and examines it. ‘How did it get here?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know,’ I say, shaking my head and shrugging. ‘I found it right here.’ I point at the rug.

Liam frowns hard at the place I’m gesturing to, at the splinters of broken glass still scattered there, and I can see him racking his brains, wondering how it ended up on the floor.

‘The door was wide open when I woke up,’ I say quietly.