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Emma filled the jug from the tap, and switched it on, and then stood there, watching it boil. Watching it, and waiting.

She kept her back to Izzy, not wanting to talk, not yet. She stared out of the kitchen window at the side of the neighbour’s house, something she looked at most mornings. She stared, and waited. After a moment she picked up the tea tin and opened it, and put a spoonful of leaves into the teapot. Then she waited some more, still without speaking.

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