CHAPTER 5
After our mother’s death, I was in charge of Hattie. I became her guardian. I should have rushed to her side, but I didn’t. I left her in the house alone. I made her lie when people asked after me, had her tell people I was tying up loose ends in the city. Sometimes she stayed at our neighbours, the Carrs, and I told myself she was fine. That I was, too. But I know now I wasn’t. On the outside, I put on phony smiles the way I caked on make-up. Fake it till you make it, right? That’s what they say. They don’t know.
And one day, a guy walked into the bookshop, and he looked familiar and big and good-looking and like he didn’t give a s**t about music or books or art or anything cool, which was exactly what I was looking for.
‘Hey,’ he said gruffly, a bit of a frown on his face.
