The phone rang once, and then it stopped. That’s what happens when someone cancels your call, Sarah. I knew exactly who it was, and I wasn’t in the mood for games. She finally answered.
“Where have you been? ” she asked, her voice tight. “The Ritz,” I said. “I was worried about you.
”
“Were you worried I was going to get hit over the head with a scaffolding pole, or worried I’d dob you in? ”
“Well, did you? Been arrested yet? ”
“It looks like it, doesn’t it?
”
“That’s not even an answer, Sarah. I can’t live like this. I’m not going to say anything. ”
“It’s only a matter of time before someone figures this out.
”
“Which is why we offer a decent alternative. Someone who knows exactly what happened that night. No. Gary goes down for this, you’re in the clear.
”
“Gary helped me. He saved me. I’m not going to throw him to the wolves. ”
“So, what have you got a better plan?
”
“I’ll have to hand myself in. ”
I couldn’t let Gary take the fall for something I did. I couldn’t let Harry grow up without a mum. And I couldn’t keep living with this secret crushing me.
But Sarah was right about one thing—I was in way over my head. Later, I was supposed to take my daughter to school, but Bethany had already gone. My husband was rushing around, trying to get everyone out the door. I was distracted, rehearsing what I’d say when I finally confessed.
He caught me staring at him. “You look fuming,” he said. “Just practicing my interrogation face for work, mate. ”
“You’re such a geek.
”
He had no idea what I was carrying. Neither did my daughter, Betsy, who was about to graduate and chase her dream of fashion school in London. I kept telling myself I’d sort it out. I’d protect them both.
But I was lying to myself. Meanwhile, across the street, Cathy was facing her own mess. A man named Brian had shown up, claiming to be the father of her son, Joseph—a son she’d never told him about. He wasn’t there to cause trouble, he said.
He just wanted a relationship with his boy. But Cathy knew the truth wouldn’t stay buried for long. And if Brian found out how Joseph was really conceived—well, that would wreck everything she’d built. At the hospital, Betsy had been helping with the younger kids, trying to get some peace and quiet for her revision.
But the house was chaos, and her project for economics was due. She was worried she’d fail, but her family rallied around her. They always did. They were a glittering chaos house, they said.
Not peace and algebra. But Betsy just wanted to get to London. She wanted out. She wanted her own life.
I was at the kitchen sink when my phone rang. It was Ryan, Betsy’s boyfriend. His voice was shaking. “I found her on the kitchen floor,” he said.
“Tap was still on. She must have collapsed. She was fine this morning. She was laughing about the jam and butter.
”
“Callum, what happened? ” I asked. “No idea. She’s in hospital.
They’re doing scans. ”
“I’m coming,” I said. “I’m coming now. ”
I got there as fast as I could.
Betsy was in a bed, looking small and pale. They’d given her a CT scan,and they were sending her for an MRI. They said they were concerned about something, but they wouldn’t say what. I sat with her, holding her hand.
She kept apologizing for dropping a mug she’d been washing. I told her not to worry. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
She was safe. That was all I cared about. Then the doctor came back in. His face was serious.
“Betsy suffered a stroke,” he said. “Caused by a blockage to an artery. ”
“A stroke? ” I couldn’t get my head around it.
“She’s 18. She’s a teenager. She’s not had a stroke. ”
“It is rare,” he said.
“But some do. ”
“What would even cause that? ”
“We need to do more tests,” he said. “But she’s responding well to treatment so far.
”
I couldn’t breathe. Strokes didn’t happen to kids like her. She was strong. She was stubborn.
She’d climbed a climbing wall when she was six, without a harness, after I’d told her no. And she’d fallen. And she’d picked herself up, dusted herself down, wiped the blood off her knees, and acted like nothing had happened. I was a wreck.
But she was fine. She was always fine. And she’d be fine now, too. She had to be.
But then she had another stroke. Right there in front of me. And I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop it.
I just stood there, watching her slip away again, while doctors rushed in. And I felt the world collapse around me. They did a mechanical thrombectomy. They removed the clot.
The surgeon came out, looking exhausted but hopeful. “The procedure went well,” he said. “We’re optimistic. ”
“But she’s struggling with some mobility on her right side,” he added.
“And the second stroke seems to have affected her speech further. ”
“What are the chances of full recovery? ”
“Every patient’s different,” he said. “But we are very optimistic.
”
I clung to that word. Optimistic. I had to believe her. I had to.
Betsy woke up slowly. She tried to talk, but the words came out wrong. She wanted to go home. She wanted a shower.
She kept saying it over and over, and I kept telling her soon. Not yet. The doctors needed to run more tests. They needed to find out what caused it.
And then they did find out. The doctor came in, looking serious. “One of the scans has highlighted something,” she said. “We need to have a chat.
In private. ”
I sent everyone out. It was just me and Betsy. And the doctor asked her a question that made my blood run cold.
“Can you recall receiving a blow to your neck? Or any time where it’s been crushed? ”
Betsy went quiet. She looked at me.
And then she started talking. Slowly. Painfully. Trying to find the words.
“Me and Owen… in garage… making but a food… in Kevin’s garage.
”
“Garage place with food kitchen? ” the doctor prompted. “Date together… don’t be late…
”
“And what? ” the doctor asked. “Playing marbles… paper one tough cake cake…
”
“Okay. So, you had your cake. And what next? ”
“After food we…
dance… ”
She started humming. A tune. A slow song.
And I watched her face change. “This is when it happened,” she said. “What happened? ”
“I don’t know if I did…
not long did normal. ”
“Normal? ” I said. “Tell me how is that normal?
”
“Normal before everyone does. ”
“No, they don’t,” I said. “Nobody has ever put their hands around my neck while I’ve been dancing. ”
“Oh, don’t…
”
“And he did all that,” she said. “But bad bad Bessie… ”
“What do you mean bad? ”
“He choked you.
While you having sex? ”
“No. Like I said… He choked me.
And I thought it was normal. ”
The doctor leaned in. “It really doesn’t take a huge amount of pressure to do a significant amount of damage. You may have felt fine at the time.
Strokes don’t always happen immediately afterwards. ”
Betsy started crying. I pulled her into my arms. I held her.
I told her she had absolutely nothing to apologize for. She kept saying it. Over and over. “I know.
I know. I know. ”
But I couldn’t shake the image. Someone had put their hands around my daughter’s neck.
They’d choked her. And they’d left her with damage that had nearly killed her. And I had no idea who Owen was. But I was going to find out.
Ryan came bursting in. He’d been outside, waiting. He saw Betsy crying. He saw me holding her.
And he turned on me. “What’s happened? ” he demanded. “You can’t be here right now,” I said.
“Why? Dylan, you trust me. You don’t need to worry right now. ”
“You did this.
You put him in here. You attacked him then,and you chose to lie. Why would you do that? ”
I froze.
What was he talking about? He looked wildly around the room. He looked at Betsy, then back at me. And his face twisted with rage.
“YOU DON’T MOVE,” he yelled. “HOW ABOUT I CHUCK YOU DOWN THERE AND SEE HOW YOU LIKE? ”
“DYLAN, PLEASE. NO.
”
“COME ON, DYLAN, PLEASE. GO. ”
“COME ON, COME ON, COME ON… ”
I didn’t understand.
I didn’t know what he was talking about. But I knew I had to get him out of there. I held up my hands. I kept my voice steady.
“I know. I know. I know,” I said. Over and over, until he stopped shouting.
Until he backed away. Until he was gone. I turned back to Betsy. She was crying softly.
I held her. I didn’t know what had just happened. But I knew one thing for sure. Someone had hurt my daughter.
And someone was going to pay.
