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“Yes, that would be good.” I think of Georgia again. Of seeing her tomorrow. Of trying to apologize for being an absolute arse to her. Fuck, I’ll get down on my knees for her. She didn’t deserve any of this. “It’s been a long night,” I tell Saskia. “I think we should all get some sleep.”

There’s a small crackle from the speaker as Saskia shifts the phone on her end. “That’s probably wise,” she agrees. “Nothing else productive is going to happen tonight.”

My father makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff, but he doesn’t argue.

“Call me if anything changes,” Saskia continues. “Otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Saskia.”

The line clicks off, leaving the room suddenly quiet.

For a moment neither of us speaks. Then my father exhales loudly and sinks into his chair. He looks smaller than I remember. His skin is pallid. And for the first time I can see through his bravado.

“Go to bed,” I tell him. “Tomorrow you have a lot of talking to do. You need to speak to Saskia, to Mother, and I want all the details about my sister.”

He winces. For a moment I almost feel sorry for him.

“Can you stop calling her your sister?” he whispers. “Your mother will throw a fit.”

“I don’t give a damn,” I tell him, meaning it. No child deserves to be tossed aside, especially not by their parents. Just the thought of it makes my blood boil.

He reaches for the bottle, but I snatch it from him. “Go to bed,” I snarl.

He shoots me one last resentful look, then shuffles toward the door.

“Fine,” he mutters.

The door closes behind him with a dull thud, and I lean back in the chair and stare at the ceiling, thinking of Georgia, sitting in Caleb’s car, heading back to London. I need to explain myself, to make it right with her. Christ, I want to be with her, not stuck here dealing with all this crap my father sent my way.

Right now, that’s the only thing keeping me going.

I wake a few minutes after 5:30am. It’s still dark outside, but I roll out of bed anyway and head to the bathroom. My throat goes dry when I see her toothbrush still sitting on the counter next to mine.

I pick it up and turn it over in my hand then I slide it into my washbag, planning to give it back to her when I see her. Hopefully Mateo sorted her out another one.

It takes me less than fifteen minutes to shower and dress. I throw my things into my case, fully intending to leave straight away, but then I hear a noise coming from the kitchen.

Barbara is in there when I put my head around the door, filling the coffee machine like it’s the most normal morning in the world.

“You look exhausted,” she says when she sees me. “I thought I’d come down and make sure you had something to eat before you leave.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” My voice is thick. “I could have grabbed something myself.”

Her face softens. “Maybe I needed to do it,” she says quietly. “Maybe someone does.” She reaches up and cups my face. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Over her shoulder I can see the little Christmas tree she’s put up, the lights twinkling in the dim kitchen.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “I’ll take the coffee with me.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Merry Christmas. I hope it’s not too horrible here with everything that’s happened.”

“Oh, we’ve lived through worse,” she says with a small smile. “Your mum will probably be back soon. In the meantime, we’ll try to keep your dad from drinking himself stupid.”

“You’re not paid enough for this.”

Her mouth twitches. “Nor are you.” She grabs an insulated mug from the cupboard and sets it beside the spitting coffee machine. “Have you heard from Georgia?” she asks. “The poor poppet. She looked as pale as a sheet last night.”

My stomach tightens. “I spoke to Caleb. He was taking her back to the hotel. I’ll see her when I get there in a couple of hours.”

“Be gentle with her,” Barbara says softly. “She’s a kind soul, that one. And good for you.”