There’s a gentle knock on my door, and Sarah wraps her head around warily. Her eyes flicker over me very analytically; she’s clearly assessing my mental state.

“Emma … honey? Are you up for a visitor? There’s someone here to see you.” She looks sheepish, and my heart plummets in cold fear.

Oh, my God, he didn’t?! He couldn’t?! Forget all that pushing his way in stuff … NO! I really don’t want to see him.

She sees my face pale visibly and immediately ...