I grip Sarah's hand tight. 'I dunno,' I say, shaking my head. 'There's no reason for it, it's no one's fault. It just kind of happened.'  
                          
      Robert bangs his fist on the table and stands up angrily, his chair clattering to the floor. His face is constricted and he turns away from us, his head in his hands. Sarah stares at him, frightened.  
                          
      'Dad, are you okay?'  
                          
       Robert holds up his hand, his eyes shut. 'Don't,' he orders. 'Just don't.' He turns to leave the room. I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking it's over, but then Sarah does something I've never seen her do before. She jumps up from the table and chases after him.  
                          
      'Why?' she asks stubbornly, following him into the living room. 'Why shouldn't we?'  Robert shakes his head in frustration.  
                          
      'Why can't we talk about it?' Sarah yells at Robert, tears streaming down her cheeks. 
                          
      'She was my mum.'  
                          
      I rush into the living room. I know what Sarah is asking is fair enough – Robert has never once discussed what had happened to Mum with either of us – but given the state he's in, I just want to get her as far away from him as possible.  
                          
      I step in between Robert and Sarah and take her hand.  
                          
      'Come on, Sar, it's okay,' I say. 'Just come back into the kitchen and have dinner. We can sort this out later.'  
                          
      Sarah glares at me angrily. 'No,' she says, pulling her hand away and moving towards Robert. 'Why won't you talk to me about her? She was our mum.'  
                          
      Robert waves his hand as if shooing Sarah away. But Sarah continues towards him, undeterred. Her face looks more determined than I've ever seen it, and it dawns on me how much this means to her.  
                          
      Of the three of us, Sarah knows the least about Mum's accident. She was young when it had happened and I sheltered her from it as best I could. But now she wants answers.  
                          
      'Why won't you talk to me?' she yells at Robert. 
                          
      Robert's cornered, his eyes flash with pain and rage. 'Don't you do this,' he threatens 
                          
      Sarah. 'Don't you fucking do this, not now, not ever – you understand?'  
                          
      'Why?' she screams, tears streaming down her face now. 'She was your wife. You loved her but you act like she never existed. Why are you doing this to us?' 
                          
      I'm panicking now, my heart racing. Something has awoken in Sarah, something that has built up over years of rejection and neglect, and she isn't going to stop until she either gets a response out of Robert or pushes him until he snaps. I jump in between the two of them again, trying to protect Sarah, moving her back a little, away from Robert's striking distance. But Sarah dodges around me and grabs onto Robert's jumper.  
                          
      'Fuck off,' he yells, knocking her hand away. 'Fuck off and don't ever fucking mention this again.'
                          
      'Why do you do this?' Sarah screams. 'Why?'  
                          
      Robert spins around, his face livid. 'Because you fucking caused it, didn't you?' he spits at Sarah. 'She died because of you.'  
                          
      Sarah's face turns white.  
                          
      My stomach lurches and my brain goes numb.  
                          
      Sarah stands there, stunned. I watch as she tries to process the absolute horror of a truth she'd long forgotten. She stumbles and almost falls, but I grab her and half drag, half carry her into our bedroom.