Hearing the welcome glug of red wine hitting the glasses, I smiled at my husband. ‘Here’s to the weekend,’ I sighed to Darren, then 44, sinking into the sofa.
Just as I was taking my first sip, our youngest daughter Lyla, then 16, poked her head around the living-room door.
‘I’m going out,’ she grinned.
It was March 2022 and while I was looking forward to a night in, Lyla couldn’t wait to go out with college friends.
I wanted her to enjoy herself, but as a mother to three girls, I worried constantly about their safety.
Even with my older two, Sarah*, then 24, and Laura*, 22, I was always reminding them to check in.
At midnight, I went to bed, expecting Lyla
