Margot replaces the oxygen mask over Flora’s face. ‘We can talk later. You need to get well. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.’ Flora’s chest rattles as she breathes and the sound worries Margot. Her eyes slowly close again and Margot sits on the cold, plastic chair next to the bed, still clutching her daughter’s hand and watching as her chest rises and falls. She only lets go when the doctor comes in and checks the monitor by Flora’s bedside. There is a flurry of activity and noise as another doctor rushes in. Then an overweight nurse with a kind face ushers a startled Margot out of the cubicle.

‘What’s going on? Is there something wrong?’

‘They’re just taking her to the right department, pet,’ the nurse says. ‘She needs more specialized care, that’s all. Come with me, and when she’s settled, you can see her.’

Margot wants to scream and kick the woman, this nurse, who’s keeping her apart from her child. She wants never to be parted from Flora again. But she resists the urge, instead allowing herself to be led away.

Jess and the boyfriend are sitting at a table holding hands and murmuring to each other when Margot stumbles into the waiting area, blinking from the harsh overhead lighting. Everything has changed. Since Flora went missing Margot has been going through the motions, like an actress playing a part, but it hadn’t felt real. She’d been numb, even when something good happened, like being with Heather or Ethan, and any elation would swiftly be followed by a surge of guilt. And now. Now everything feels hyper-real, too bright, surreal almost. She still feels like she’s in a play, but one in which the ending has suddenly changed without anyone telling her.

When Jess sees her she drops her boyfriend’s hand, pushes her chair back and darts over to her. ‘Is it her? Is it Flora?’

Margot can only nod and Jess has to help her to the table.

‘No,’ says Margot, stopping in her tracks. ‘I need to go. I need to see Heather. She knew Flora was still alive. I need to tell her that her sister is here.’

Jessica’s eyes widen in surprise. ‘Wait. What?’

‘Heather knew. I don’t …’ she gulps ‘… I don’t understand any of it. Not yet.’

‘I did wonder if Heather knew more than she was letting on,’ Jess says, a blush colouring her cheeks. ‘She was wearing Flora’s ring.’

‘What happened? How did you find Flora?’

The boyfriend steps forward. ‘I found her, Mrs Powell.’ He holds out a hand. ‘I’m Rory.’ And then he proceeds to tell her everything.

The waiting room is remarkably busy for a Wednesday evening, but Margot feels as if she’s been sitting there for ever, even though it can’t be longer than half an hour.