IsobelBrendan left early for the office. Whether it was a headache or his conscience that drove him from the bed, Isobel did not know, but she stayed furrowed under the blankets, her face to the wall. She felt him stand over her at one point before he left, but she kept her face hidden, a sheet pulled over her eyes. She wondered if he would speak to her, if he would touch her shoulder. She did not know what she would do if he did. But Brendan left without a word. Esther, too, lay silently behind her curtain.
There was a knife between her thighs, a pain so sharp that Isobel gasped as she swung her legs round to get up. A streak of blood on the nightdress and bedsheets. It had been over quickly, Brendan’s insistent body addled with drink. He had told her what he wanted and that it was her d
