Splinter snakes round to my back. He leans his weight into my thigh, and my fingers find the soft warm spot behind his ear. The woman straightens slightly at the size of him. I clear my throat. “I’m walking my dog.”

“Should you be out on your own? Where are your parents? Are you lost? Where do you live?” The way she fires the questions at me, I reckon she’s a teacher. No sense that she’s not going to get an answer.

“I’m fine. I’m just walking my dog. We’re going home now.” I wave the lead at her.

She frowns. “It’s getting dark. You shouldn’t be out here alone in the dark. How old are you anyway?”

“I’m fine. I’ve got my dog.” I clip the lead to his collar.

“Look”—she pats her bike seat—“let me put this away and I’ll give you a lift home.” She glances at Splinter. “Your dog can jump in the back. It’s too cold and dark to be out here by yourself.” She says it like it’s the most sensible thing, for me to get into her car. I step away, pulling Splinter with me.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You’d be proud of my manners. I wonder if please-and-thank-you is going to get me out of this. I force my feet to keep moving me through the gate, my breath loud in my ears.

“Hey, I’m only trying to help.” She lifts her bike up onto her porch, leans it next to the little table and the chairs with the cushions.

“I don’t need help. I’m fine.” I step back closer to the footpath.

“Okay, fair enough. You don’t want to get into a stranger’s car.” No, duh. “That’s probably very sensible. But I’ll feel better knowing you get home safely, so I’m just going to follow you home, okay?” She lifts the bike down again and swings it around to face the street, snaps a shoe onto the pedal. “Make sure your mum knows where you are.” She glances down at where the snail’s lying hidden in the leaves.

My breath doesn’t reach the bottom of my lungs. Splinter licks the jacket at my hip. I touch his collar, burying my fingers in the warm fur of his back. I reach my other arm out toward her bike—she’s only got one leg on the ground—and I give her a shove to the left. Then I run.

“Hey!” I hear her crash into the garden behind me. I don’t stop to look. Splinter’s bouncing along beside me, trying to lick my hand, grabbing the lead. I ignore his game, yank him along and keep running. His paws get between my feet. “Splinter!” I yell at him, just keeping my balance. I look behind us. No one’s following. We keep running.