My name is Mary, and I am caught in the most agonising decision of my life: should I urge my daughter Lucy to confess her pregnancy to her husband, or should I shield her with my silence? Every night, I hear her muffled sobs through the thin walls of our old terrace house, and I feel the weight of our family’s past pressing down on us, especially since she returned home. This is my story, my plea for understanding, and an invitation for you to share what you would do in my place.