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Well, there’s only half an hour until I find out.

I head into the kitchen just as Paula is leaving.

“I’ll be down there,” she says, pointing down the corridor with three doors heading off it.

“Okay,” I say, not quite sure what to do or say.

She smiles warmly, and my shoulders relax. If I’m to stay here and she comes in every day, I better get used to it.

After our whirlwind tour, I know the first door is Caleb’s home office. The second is a state-of-the-art home gym, and the third is a guest bathroom.

I shake my head, wishing I had my sports gear and could go for a run. My mind wanders to images of Caleb on arunning machine, sweat dripping down his body, his olive skin glistening.

I lick my lips because my mouth is suddenly dry. I head into the kitchen and throw open the fridge, surprised to find it fully stocked.

“Oh, I forgot to say,” Paula says, reappearing and making me jump. “Oh, sorry,” she says, as I hold up a hand before clutching it to my chest, willing my breathing to return to normal. “I’ve stocked the fridge. If there’s anything you need or want, let me know, and I can arrange for the concierge to have it delivered for you.”

I stare at the woman open-mouthed before slamming it shut. “Er, thank you.”

She smiles and makes a gesture to let me know she’s leaving.

How the other half live. I don’t even need to go to the supermarket to buy orange juice. I can make a call and have it delivered. This is surreal.

I pull out the carton of juice and hunt through the cupboards until I find a glass. I collapse onto one of the stools in the centre of the room, pouring myself a generous portion. The kitchen is a quarter of the size of my entire dance studio.

A buzzer sounds somewhere in the apartment.

I hear Paula answer, although I can’t make out her words. She reappears at the door, but this time, I’m ready to give her what I’m sure is an awkward smile.

“Chloe is here. I’ve told them to send her up,” Paula says. “If you need anything...”

“Thank you,” I say again, unsure of what else to say. I don’t even know who this Chloe is.

Paula greets someone, followed by a loud clattering and banging sound.

“Thank you, gents, that was really helpful,” another voice says.

I step out of the kitchen, the sight in front of me taking my breath away.

A woman around my age stands in the living room. As if sensing my arrival, she turns with the most welcoming smile.

“Hi, I’m Chloe. You must be April,” she says, stepping forward and holding out her hand. “Caleb sent me. He told me about your unfortunate circumstances. I’m so sorry. It must have been awful,” she adds, her voice full of genuine sympathy. “I’m here to help replace some of the things you lost.”

I stare wide-eyed at the woman in front of me.

“I think there’s been some misunderstanding, Chloe,” I say when I look at the store she’s come from. Under no circumstances can I afford this shop or their brands.

“No misunderstanding,” she says, leading me to the sofa. “Caleb left strict instructions. You are to have whatever you need. He’s got it covered.”

My phone beeps on the table, and I get up to retrieve it. I need to call Caleb anyway and ask him what the hell he’s playing at.

I glance down at my phone.

Speak of the devil.

CALEB:

I know Chloe has arrived. Let her sort out your clothes.