"So, like, where's the rest of it?" Sapphire opened a door off the kitchen, looking for more rooms, or perhaps stairs to another floor, and found a cupboard with a high window instead. Inside was an ancient vacuum cleaner, which, judging by the state of the flat, hadn't been used for at least fifteen years. "I know it's compact—" Mum began, but Grace, who was peering round another doorway, cut in: "There are beds in the sitting room. How weird." "Well, we'll probably have to do without a lounge for now," Mum muttered. "I thought you and Saff could have that room—" My two older sisters stared at each other, then at Mum, in horror. "What – share?!" they both cried at once. "But I can't have all her clothes and shoes and stuff in MY room! You know how messy she is!" (That was Grace.) "I can't relax with her in MY room, wanting to study all the time. I can't creep around in silence, I need to express myself!" (Saff that time.) "What about Abbie?" Grace said then. "It's not fair she's getting her own room – I'm the one with GCSEs next year!" I looked at Mum. "Yeah, what about me?" I asked. I didn't think I'd seen a third bedroom, and it would have been hard to miss in a place this small. Mum gave me a strained smile. "Well, I thought we could—" Not joking, my mouth actually dropped open. "No way!" I gasped. "I'm nearly fourteen, not four! I can't share a room with my MUM! I'd rather sleep in that cupboard!" "Okay, I'll go in with Saff," Grace said quickly. "No way!" Saff cried. "I'd rather have Abbie." My gaze skipped across all three of them, trying to work out who would be the least hideous option. But I couldn't think straight. Grace and Saff were shouting at each other by then, and at Mum, and she was shouting back, telling them to calm down...and then I saw it. It just ran across the hall in front of me. "RAT!" I screeched. We all absolutely screamed our heads off, and jumped up on the peeling plastic chairs. "Oh my gosh, where's it gone?" Mum shrieked. "It ran down the hall!" I cried. "Someone get a broom!" yelled Saff. "I am NOT leaving this chair!" Mum squealed. "Don't be ridiculous, it's only a rat," Grace snapped. "Behaving like this is what gives women a bad name." Just then there was a flash of fur and tail as the rat ran back across the doorway. We all screamed again, and Grace clambered onto the wobbly sticky-topped kitchen table. Then... "Dad! Help!" I yelled. Honestly, it just came flying out of my mouth on its own. We were all plunged into shocked silence. You could feel the pain, buzzing and pulsing between us like electricity. Snapping and sparking and sizzling. I glanced quickly at Mum, hoping I hadn't made her cry. But she just looked ragged and defeated and numb, which was worse somehow. I suppose I should say what happened, why Dad's not here. I mean, even though I don't really want to talk about it. Okay, so, deep breath... Mum and Dad have split up. Dad had an affair, Mum found out, and our whole world just seemed to explode. He ended it straight away, but that didn't seem to make things any better. At first they tried to talk about it – in fact we all did once, sitting down together round our big chunky kitchen table (Mum's idea). Yes, it was the most embarrassing half hour of my life, in case you're wondering. But the talking didn't work – instead it always seemed to turn into shouting, then crying, then door-slamming and silence. And then we woke up that morning three weeks ago to find Dad gone. Well, I did. Grace and Saff were still in bed. So was Mum, I saw, as I crept across her and Dad's room to nab some of her re-shine hair serum. As soon as I walked into their en suite, I knew something was wrong,...