“Roll back the clock to exactly one week ago today,” I say. “I’ve flown to Edinburgh to be with my nan. She’s in hospice care. Cancer. Two weeks to live, tops, which means she’s probably already…” I inhale. “Yep, I’m trying not to think about that.” Isla’s mild brow knit tightens into a full-blown knot. I continue, “I’m about to say a whole lotta words that will make zero sense to you. Just roll with it. So, a week ago. Long day at Nan’s bedside, and I need a break.
