“What did he do?” I say, sitting next to the bed. I touch her hand and she smiles at me.

“Nothing. It’s okay, Tess. I’m upset because…he won’t listen. He won’t talk to me. I can’t get through to him like I have to Sean and it makes me sad. I hoped, when they came here, I hoped I’d have time to make things right with them. But I won’t, not with Jack, I won’t have time, I’ll never have enough time.”

“Did he say something? To upset you?”

She shakes her head. “It’s the not saying anything that upsets me. He doesn’t talk about me leaving and he doesn’t talk about anything that happened afterward. He refuses to even hear Ellie’s name when I try to explain.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching down to kiss her forehead.

“I wish he would just tell…” Her voice trails off.

“Tell what?”

Her face twists. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said that.”

There’s something there, in her eyes. Something she wants me to see without her telling. The back of my neck prickles and I turn to look at the open door. Nobody there. But when I look back down at Julia, there’s fear on her face and I know someone was there. I go over and close the door.

“What are you hiding?” I whisper to Julia. “Is it about Greg? Greg and…and Bella?” I turn my face away, afraid of her answer.

“What? No…no. But don’t, Tess. Don’t ask me.” She pauses, takes in a deep breath that makes her wince. “And don’t ask Jack. I don’t want him to think I’m telling tales.”

Telling tales about what?

I go straight to Jack’s room after Julia falls asleep and find him staring out of the window, a bottle of whisky in his hand.

“Why can’t you let it go?” I say. “She’s dying. Can’t you even pretend?”

“Did she tell you a sob story about our poor baby dead sister and that’s why she left? Or did she tell you some other story?”

There’s an edge to his voice. He keeps his tone light but that edge tells me he’s wary of what Julia might have told me.

“She didn’t say anything other than wishing you would forgive her.”

“Really? No other deathbed confessions? No morphine-fueled lies?”

“What are you afraid of?”

His face shuts down. “I’m not afraid of anything Julia has to say.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” I shouldn’t provoke him. I don’t want to push him into anger. “She left because she was grieving. She knows it was wrong to leave you. Can’t you forgive her? Now, after all this time? Can’t you understand and forgive?”

“It’s not me who won’t forgive.”

“What?”