Eight years after my husband filed for divorce the week I told him I was pregnant, he texted me an invitation to Christmas dinner at his mother’s house. He expected me to turn up alone. I turned up with four eight-year-olds who have his jaw — and then one of them asked him a question and the room stopped.

I worked in specimen logistics before any of this. Medical couriers. Blood, tissue, samples, the boring middle of healthcare that nobody thinks about until it goes wrong.

I went back at nine months, part time, on nights, because Odessa had them at night and because nobody else would have me.

Then in 2019 I noticed something that everybody in that industry knew and nobody had done anything about, which is that the temperature chain on regional specimen transport breaks in the last eleven miles, and that nobody could prove it because nobody was logging it properly.

I started Sable Cold Chain with two vans and a logger design a friend of Odessa’s welded in a garage.