Page 101 of The Clifftop Cottage

“Don’t say his name!”

The words rang through the room. But Leah pushed on, because this was the truth, and it had sat unsaid for too long.

“When Mum vanished. When you buried yourself in work, marrying Steven without inviting us to the wedding.”

“It was just a small ceremony.”

“And you wouldn’t answer your phone,” Leah continued, knowing the excuses too well. “In hospital and still you didn’t tell anyone.”

Erica flinched.

“We are your family,” Leah said. “We love you. And sometimes it feels like you toss us aside the moment something, or someone from the past calls louder.”

“I don’t do that,” Erica said, her voice fraying. “My career matters. It’s not a crime to care about my work.”

“So does mine,” Leah replied. “But it has its place. It shouldn’t cost everything else.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“And I believe you.” Leah’s eyes shone now. “But sorry doesn’t build trust. It doesn’t show up to school plays. It doesn’t answer messages. It doesn’t stay.”

Erica’s shoulders sagged a fraction. “You think I’m selfish.”

“I think you’re scared,” Leah said. “And in your own head too much.”

Erica shook her head.

“You say you want connection,” Leah continued, quietly. “But every time someone gets close – really close – you brace for impact. And then you’re gone before they can leave you.”

Erica turned away, staring at the dark window.

“You remember when we came to London?” Leah continued. “Just for a weekend. Me and Maisie. She was so excited – kept asking if you’d show her your office, the studio, that bookshop you mentioned. And you—” Leah laughed, but there was no humour in it. “You squeezed in one rushed dinner. You didn’t even stay for dessert.”

Erica’s hand tightened around her coat. “I had deadlines.”

“No, you had walls. I should’ve known, you weren’t yourself,” Leah whispered. “Pale. Like you were fading. And then you stopped answering messages. You vanished.”

“I was in hospital,” Erica said, low and defensive and ashamed all at once.

“I know. Eventually.” Leah’s voice trembled. “But by then you’d already shut us out.”

The fire cracked in the grate.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Erica said.

“I know,” Leah replied. “That’s the worst part. You never mean to.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“I don’t want to keep doing that,” Erica said finally. And this time it sounded honest. Almost frightened.

“Then don’t,” Leah said, stepping closer again. “Stay. Let us in. We’re not ghosts. We’re right here.”

Erica’s eyes filled. “I’m not choosing ghosts,” she said. “I’m choosing truth.”

“And what if the truth costs you the people who are still alive?” Leah asked quietly.

Erica didn’t answer. She moved to the door instead. “I need to do this.”