Because he saw a sliver of my shameful wretched past, and I’m devastated. He will see I’m a fraud, that PA Emma, his number two, is nothing more than a facade for a broken piece of worthlessness that men liked to knock around and touch.

It makes me feel sick inside, and I hurtle myself onto the bed amid a flurry of tears.

I hate crying. I don’t cry! I won’t give them my tears; I won’t let them have that from me. They took everything else.

I roll on my back and take gasping gulps of air, swallowing them down painfully, knowing I need to control myself.

That’s right,...