Elaine was the first to find her voice.

“The lab is wrong,” she said. “Those tests are wrong all the time. We'll do another.”

“It's an accredited laboratory, Mrs Whitfield,” said Mr Hughes. “The samples were taken separately and recorded properly. The result is not wrong.”

Tom lowered his hands. His eyes were red.

“But the photos,” he said to me. “The messages. I saw them, Rachel. I saw them with my own eyes.”

“I told you seven years ago they weren't real,” I said. “I begged you to take a test. You said you had eyes.”

He flinched.

“You missed his first steps,” I said. “His first word. His first day at school. His first goal. Seven birthdays. Your father sent a card to every single one.”

Tom stared at me. “Dad... sent cards?”

“Every year. Signed Grandad Frank.”

Elaine's mouth tightened.

Amber had let go of Tom's arm. She was edging towards the door.

“Don't go yet, Amber,” I said. I opened my folder. “Tom. Would you like to know who took those photos?”