I fight back tears as my best friend clutches her son’s hand, the room silent except for the low beep of his life support machine. I couldn’t bear it if this was my own son. My pulse races as she slowly turns to me. “How could you let this happen?”

When my teenage son Miles and his best friend Isaac ask to have a party at our house, I immediately agree—as a single mom, I’m used to making the decisions and they need to let off steam. But later that night when I’m woken by the blare of sirens and see blue lights streaking across the sky, I realize I am living every parent’s worst nightmare.

They said they would stay in the garage. So why aren’t they there? Sprinting over to the lake at the bottom of the garden, my heart pounding all I can think is, where is my son? Is he hurt? Then in horror, I watch as Isaac is pulled onto a stretcher.

Guilt crashes over me in waves as I struggle to breathe. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I know this is all my fault. I should never have left them. Beth trusted me to look after her son and I already know that she’ll never forgive me.

As Isaac’s life hangs in the balance, I feel a rising sense of panic. What if he never wakes up? And if he does, will he tell everyone what really happened that night and tear our families apart forever?