“How many did you take?”

“About six. Maybe more. I’m not sure.”

“That is very dangerous, Amelia. We’ve checked your records, and they say you are pregnant, too?” the doctor asked, looking vexed.

“Is the baby okay?” I said.

“The baby will be fine, and so will you. You just need to rest now,” the doctor explained calmly.

For the first time since I found out I was pregnant, I actually felt the sting of parental instinct. My child was innocent and hadn’t even been born yet, but I’d threatened its life. Even though I knew it was a paranoid manifestation of my overdosed state, Harry was right, and I felt repulsive about it. His words had cut into me deeply, and at that moment, I would have given anything to undo all the damage that I’d caused him. The only part of him that still existed was nestled safely in my womb, and I had a renewed urge to protect it at all costs. Maybe all the mistakes I’d made would be somehow forgiven if I managed to keep it safe. That was the only thing Harry was wrong about. I was going to keep the baby.

“We had to give you Flumazenil, which counteracts the Alprazolam in your system. You might have some mild side effects like dizziness or a headache, but it should be all out of your system quickly,” the doctor explained.

“Thank you, doctor,” I replied.

“Are you experiencing any chest pains or shortness of breath?”

“Not anymore, I just feel rough,” I said with my hand on my head, “can those pills I took cause hallucinations?”

“Those drugs in the right quantity can be very dangerous. There have been reports of extreme paranoia and hallucinations given the right circumstances. Did you experience some hallucinations?”

“I think so.”

“Usually, it’s a delusion of whatever you are struggling with to begin with. Alprazolam is a very strong drug, which is why it isn’t usually prescribed in the UK. May I ask where you got the tablets from?”

“I have a private prescription.”

“I see. I’d recommend seeing the doctor and changing to something more appropriate. You should continue taking it in the prescribed dose until then. It can be quite addictive.”

“Thank you, doctor. I will.”

“You have a visitor outside. We were unable to get in touch with your next of kin. Would you like to see them?”

“Sure.”

The doctor returned my chart to the end of the bed and continued making his rounds. I’d never felt so nauseated in my life. When I was remembering the hallucination, it felt entirely real. It was the same kind of feeling as when you have an argument with someone in a dream, and you wake up still angry. Harry had never spoken to me like that, ever. Every single insecurity I’d held over the years was repeated back at me with malice. I kept telling myself that it was just an illusion and it was my own paranoia talking, but I knew that everything he said about me was true. I started this journey to discover more about Harry, and I had to accept it meant looking at some hard truths about myself, too.

The door opened, and Kim sheepishly walked in with a punnet of grapes. For the first time ever, I didn’t roll my eyes at her. I felt guilty for speaking to her the way I did; she was only trying to put my mind at ease. If someone had spoken to me like that, there was no way I would be coming to their bedside bearing gifts. I needed to put aside my own obsessions and paranoia and accept that she was just trying to help. In a way, she was the only friend I had left.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked.

“I came back to apologise when they were putting you in the ambulance. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Rotten. You?”

“Guilty.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t have left you there like that. I could see you were struggling. I should have been kinder. I’m sorry.”

“You are fine, honestly. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

Kim sat down on the chair beside the bed and offered me a grape, which I refused. She took one herself and entered a reflective state. I could see her building up to say something in her usual way, and I turned my head to make eye contact with her keenly.

“The doctor mentioned it. You never said you were pregnant,” Kim said softly.

“It never came up,” I uttered.

“How are you feeling about it?”

“About what?”

“Having a baby.”

Kim was leaning in, expecting an insightful response, but I didn’t have one to give her. More than anything, it just didn’t feel real. I wasn’t even far enough along to have a scan. I’d been told by plenty of medical professionals that I was pregnant, but I didn’t believe it. I’d built up a curious defence mechanism from the constant failures when we had tried to conceive, and it was a hangover from that.

“It’s scary,” I mustered awkwardly.

“Yeah. I bet it is,” Kim replied.

“Listen, don’t feel like you need to hang around here until I am back on my feet. I think I am just going to head back to Manchester and forget about all this.”

“No, you can’t go! We need to find out what really happened!” Kim exclaimed.

I already knew what really happened. I’d finally accepted it; Harry had taken control of his situation and killed himself. And I was the one to blame. Everything else that happened to him might have contributed to that, but I was the one who pushed him over the edge. As galling as that admission may have been, there was a level of satisfaction in finally knowing the truth.

“I don’t think I can take anymore. I just want to go home.”

“I didn’t want to bring it up, but I have a lead.”

“A lead?”

“I got speaking to an old dear at the café. Apparently, there were some irregularities with some of Harry’s customer accounts.”

“What kind of irregularities?”

“Missing money, from the sounds of it.”

I was sick of it. The constant secrets and malfeasance Harry had kept under wraps all those years were being unearthed one piece at a time. My journey was born of curiosity more than anything else. But since then, I’d found out things about Harry that I wish I hadn’t. I found out things about myself that I’d rather forget, too. Because of the way I’d treated him, I didn’t even feel like I had the right to care anymore.

“I’m sorry, Kim. I’m going home,” I said insistently.

“Okay, well, if I find out anything, I’ll let you know,” Kim said defeatedly.

“Thank you.”

Kim left my bedside and walked out of the room, leaving the punnet of grapes behind. I plucked one from the top and bit into it. As time went by, I started to regret my decision. I had convinced myself that if I continued to look into Harry’s secret past, maybe I would find a reason that would absolve me. I’d felt like we had barely scratched the surface, and maybe I didn’t have to feel guilty for the rest of my life after all. I felt so twisted and warped by the accusations and the drugs that I didn’t know what the truth was anymore. In the absence of clarity, I decided to consult James for some guidance.