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Charlie patted her knee. ‘I know what you meant. At least Penny is up there, with Sarah, able to look after her.’

‘But … is Sarah actually dead, Granddad?’

‘Yes.’

‘But not totally dead?’

‘No.’

‘It’s so …’

‘Unreal?’

‘Yes,’ Riley said.

‘To think that last week my only worry was that Olivia would find the KitKat wrapper in my car.’ Charlie laughed bitterly.

‘She can’t give out to you now,’ Riley said. ‘You can eat as many KitKats as you want. Would you like me to go to the garage and get you one now?’

Charlie smiled. ‘No, thank you, pet. But I might need one over the next few days.’

‘Anytime, Granddad.’

‘And if you need to talk, just pick up the phone and call me.’

Riley felt a wave of love for him. Here he was worrying about her, when his poor heart was broken. She hugged him. ‘I love you, Granddad.’

‘I love you, Riley.’

They sat on the bench, holding each other in silence as the light faded and disappeared altogether.

23

Johnny and Mia stood at the counter of the hospital coffee shop, waiting for their coffees to be made up.

‘I’d say you’d like some time with Sarah alone,’ Johnny said. ‘I’ll sit in the waiting room, and when you’re finished, I’ll pop in and say hi to her.’

‘Say hi – it seems mad. We all treat her as if she’s alive, even though she isn’t,’ Mia said quietly.

Mia hated the hospital, but she liked being in the room alone with her sister. It was the only place she felt at peace. Just she and Sarah, sitting quietly side by side. Sometimes she was silent, sometimes she talked to her sister, and sometimes she read her diary. It was the place Mia most wanted to be all the time.

Outside Sarah’s room, the hustle and bustle of the hospital went on: machines beeping, doctors and nurses rushing about, laughing, chatting, gossiping, occasionally crying, and raised voices … Life went on. But in Sarah’s room, when they’d finished checking her and prodding her and poking her and moving her and cleaning her, there was peace. Izzy’s family portrait was stuck on the wall beside Sarah’s bed, bringing some much-needed colour to the magnolia walls. Mummy, Daddy, Izzy and baby – she had labelled each of her stick characters. Sarah had long yellow hair and a big red smile.

Mia knew intellectually that her sister was dead, but in that room, when they were alone, Sarah didn’t feel dead. She still seemed alive, and Mia felt close to her. Being in there was like a drug, an addiction, because it took away the painof the truth. Mia wanted to run far away from the truth whenever she could.

Their last tiny sliver of hope had been dashed that morning when the Canadian neurologist had called Rob to concur with the prognosis. It had been the final punch to the gut.

‘You look worn out, love.’ Johnny took the steaming coffees from the counter and handed Mia hers. ‘Please try to get home for some rest this afternoon. I’m worried about the toll this is taking on you.’

What was the point in trying to rest? Mia couldn’t sleep. She’d nod off for about thirty minutes, then jerk awake and remember. Her mind would not stop whirring. Rest was not an option right now.

Johnny was pouring sugar into his coffee when a voice behind them said, ‘I heard about the pregnant woman in here in a coma. I believe they’re keeping her alive as an incubator.’

Mia’s blood ran cold. She flicked her eyes to a good-looking young man chatting to the cashier.

‘I know, isn’t it desperately sad?’ the woman said, as she took his money.

‘God, the poor family,’ he said insincerely. ‘I know them a little bit, actually. Our kids go to the same school. Is there any hope she’ll come out of the coma?’