After a while, Celia takes a breath. She looks at me and purses her lips. ‘You’ve probably realised by now that what I gave you wasn’t simply a sedative.’

I try to glare at her, but I can’t even do that. My eyes remain open, but I can’t move them at all – not to close them, or even blink. They’re dry and uncomfortable, unlike my mouth, which is now filling with saliva that’s dribbling down my chin.

‘It’s a shame it’s come to this, Zoe, but if you really are starting to get your memory back, then you haven’t left us with much of a choice.’ Celia tilts her head as though commiserating with me.

Malcolm is removing a pack of blue silicone gloves from his bag, similar to the pair that Celia is wearing. He opens the plastic packaging and pulls them on one finger at a time. The sight of them makes me want to cry with fear.

‘I’ve enjoyed having you as a daughter-in-law,’ she continues, ‘and you’ve given us two beautiful grandchildren. So for that, we’re grateful. But right now, I have to consider the safety and wellbeing of my sons.’

Celia gets to her feet.

‘I gave you some sleeping tablets earlier to keep you in your room, which is why you’ve been feeling so woozy. And I think they might have brought on a bit of a panic attack. I’ve also injected you with a neuromuscular blocking agent,’ she explains impassively. ‘Right now, it’s in the process of paralysing your limbs and vocal chords. Unfortunately I’m not an anaesthetist so I may not have got the dosage exactly right. Naturally, I did my research, but it’s not the same as having done it on a live patient. Ordinarily, you’d have been intubated with oxygen to help you breathe, in case you have a reaction to it, but obviously that’s impossible here, so I’ve just had to make do and hope for the best. Sorry about that.’ She pauses. ‘Just be aware, there’s a chance you may stop breathing.’

If I could sob or beg for mercy, I’d be doing it right now. I’d be pleading and crying. Appealing to her conscience, even though I now realise she hasn’t got one.

While Celia’s talking, Malcolm extracts a blue nylon rope from his bag. I wonder if they’re going to use it to tie me to the chair. Although I don’t know why they would need to do that after Celia has already incapacitated me.