‘Carly…’ I swallow hard.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Carly

Now

Carly has seen something change in Leah’s expression. She thinks she has convinced her.

‘You know I’m right, don’t you?’ Carly asks.

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Leah

Now

Carly thinks she has convinced me. She knows what it’s like to feel betrayed. To feel fear. But she doesn’t know what it feels like to be a mother. The lengths I would go to in order to protect my boy.

My fingers skim the earth until they brush against something sharp and pointed. I manoeuvre the shard of glass into my hand.

From afar, I hear the muffled sound of sirens. If I can just keep her talking.

‘Archie is so young. So innocent,’ I say.

‘But that’s the point. Don’t you see?’ She pleads with me and I do see. We were just like him once. Trusting. Malleable. Full of hope. But if I admit to understanding her logic, she might think I’m condoning what she’s about to do and I’m not. Despite the world sometimes being a broken, ugly, hateful place, it’s also full of warmth and kindness and laughter. The good outweighs the bad, every single day.

Again, Archie stirs on her lap. She presses the jumper down over his mouth. I move suddenly, startling her. She scoops up the knife with her other hand and brandishes it. ‘Let him go. It’s kinder this way. You can’t protect him out there… I can’t protect him out there.’ Tears stream down her face.

I hold the shard tightly in my grip, my palm now sticky with blood. I don’t care about contamination or infection.

I have to do something. I don’t want to hurt her but I have to shock her into releasing Archie. She loves him completely but I know that deep down she loves me too.

‘Carly,’ I say sharply. She raises her eyes to mine.

I lift the shard. Only once, not three times. There is no time, no need for rituals. I drive it as hard as I can into my stomach. There’s a pop. A give. A rush of blood.

The sirens are growing louder. A trace of a smile passes across my lips as I think it isn’t too late for Archie, even if it is too late for me.

‘Leah!” I hear Carly scream. She shoves Archie from her lap and scrambles over to me, just as I knew she would. I feel her grasp my hands. She doesn’t go near the torch, but everything darkens all the same.

I see nothing.

I feel nothing.

I am nothing.

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Leah

Now

George holds my hand, his faced creased with concern. He rubs his thumb over mine. Skin on cotton. I know he’s the one who eased my fingers into clean gloves while I was unconscious. I’d like to say I don’t need them now. That everything I have been through has made me stronger. Resilient. But when George mentioned bringing Archie in to visit me I felt a rush of panic, heat prickling my scalp. As much as I was longing to see my boy, the thought of him here among the germs and the illness and the threat of MRSA sent me teetering to the edge until George pulled me back with his soothing voice and kind words. So while I’d like to say I’m cured, I’m not. I want to be, though, and wanting is always the start of something, isn’t it?