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I now had a cup of tea in my hand and was being led back to the living room. The coffee table was covered in paperwork and an open notepad full of angry scribbles.

“I’m going to put myself through a full psych evaluation again. Get Social Services to come visit the house and allow full access to my finances. The company. The works. I have nothing to hide, and that’s the only thing I have to offer right now. Honesty. Openness. And I will demand that this ridiculous custody arrangement is withdrawn with immediate effect. I want my kids, however that will look.”

I’d never seen Dylan so determined, standing there in a crumpled shirt.

I sat down on the sofa. Maybe I looked just as dishevelled. I had ketchup on my shirt from dinner, and I was wearing slippers covered in grass from traipsing back and forth over the lawn.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he continued, pacing the floor, “but I am doing it. I’m putting my trust in theprofessionals, and if I need to prove that I can actually safely parent my own children, then I will do just that. But I’ll need help. I need so much bloody help.”

He should have sounded distraught, uttering those words. But he didn’t. He sounded strong. Defiant.

“Also, I trust Gun Larsen. I never thought I would, but she’s turning out some solid advice. I feel like we’re finally moving forward. It feels good. I have no idea why I didn’t do this before, why I didn’t think of all these things she’s suggesting. Demanding paperwork. Extracting files. Questioning decisions. So many questions. I still want to ask more. And I need to speak to my social worker and ask Constance if she would be willing to speak to them too.”

“Okay,” Jean said. “I’ll get on to that. I think we’re in a pretty good position for moving forward with things like that. We have a house in good order. We have a functioning company. You’re still on good terms with your GP, I assume? And Doctor Prakesh—the psychologist you were seeing?”

“They’re bringing in an independent assessor,” he said calmly. “Gun’s assured me he’s very thorough and respected. He’ll put me through hell, but I can deal with that.”

“You can,” I agreed.

Pride. My chest was full of it. My heart?

Fear. Goddamn it. So much fear. And love. Terrifying.

“Well, in that case, I assume I will take this evening’s rest in Constance’s bed again. Can’t be bothered to get another taxi. And if that TV doesn’t work, do you have any crisps?”

“Crisps?” I laughed.

“Yes. Nibbles. Biscuits are for daytime. I like crisps in the evenings. We also need to figure out how to rearrange this living room into a functioning office whilst retaining a family environment. We had all that song and dance last time. I’ll get my daughter-in-law’s friend Navreen on that. She works for social services, so she can advise us. See what we can get away with.”

“We could…” I began.

Dylan stared at me and then joined me on the sofa. Exhaustion was all over his face. But also?

Hope. So much of it that it made me want to cry.

“I have no clue about these things, and it’s just a suggestion.But maybe…”

“Yes?” Jean leant forward and grabbed the notepad, flicking to a fresh sheet.

“We move this stuff downstairs and make it an office. Use the garage for entry. Plenty of space for both of you down there. Patio doors open.”

“If I have Phinneas here, I need to be able to hear him.”

“Hmm,” Jean scribbled. “There are modern contraptions for things like that.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“This living room is good. It actually is, and the kitchen is big enough. But yes, I see your point.” Dylan relaxed back on the sofa, picking up his tea.

It suddenly felt like he was a completely different person. One filled with a new strength. Backbone.

We made plans. We talked. We laughed. And then Jean went to bed, leaving us on the sofa. Dylan yawned.

“Do you want me to go?” I wouldn’t blame him if he did. This had been weird. Uncomfortable. Terrifying. All the scary adjectives bounced around my skull like bullets.

“Stewart,” he said calmly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted, sitting up straighter. “I have a lot of things I have to come to terms with.”