She was there when I got back from the school run, sitting in my kitchen as if nothing had happened. Even through the shock, the disbelief, it was good to see her.
‘Em?’ I said.
‘But how did you get here, how..?’
‘I don’t know what you mean. I always come.’ She looked away as though my face worried her. ‘I need to ask you. I don’t get it. I mean, where is Ella?’
‘She’s – with your Mum.’
‘Em,’ I said, gulping. ‘You died. We buried you.’ I blinked away tears, and her chair was empty.