the August on my solicitor’s advice, from a sample taken before my daughter was born.
Ellis Prentiss is her father. On paper, stamped, before she drew a breath.
And then my phone buzzed with the address, and there was a document attached, because Ondine Marr is the sort of woman who sends her guests a six-page briefing pack.
And on page two, along the bottom, there was a row of logos.
With thanks to our corporate partners.
And I knew the middle one. Yardley Rowe Capital.
Because it is on eleven of the statements in that folder.
Where I was for eight months.
People assume I hid. I did not hide. I moved.
I gave up the flat in the March and went to my grandmother’s house, which had been sitting empty since the August, and which everybody in that family assumed had been sold with everything else.
Eleven miles
