Aminah hugs her mother then, and I step closer to them both, inhaling Mama’s perfumed scent. It’s overpowering, stronger than I’ve ever smelled it before.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mama says. ‘I want you to make your own choices. I want you to perform in the play, go to school wherever you want. I want the world to be open to you, not a closed book.’ Her voice shakes a little as she finishes speaking. ‘Like mine has been.’

‘I’m sorry too!’ Aminah declares.

And the memory fades as the two of them say ‘I love you’.

I don’t hear the rest of their conversation; I don’t know how Mama’s story ends. But I suppose that’s for Aminah to find out.

Everything becomes hazy then, like a fog has descended over Mum’s mind.

The perfume’s running out, even though I diluted it. But that’s OK because I just need one more memory to finish the game.

The perfume is the object that brought me into this world, and it’s the final object I need to complete the memory box.

Now all I need to do is unlock the door and wake Mum up.

Now all I need to do is save her.

And I know where I’m going to get more perfume . . .

Chapter 33

Charlotte: Hey, girls! I’ve just sent our competition entry. We should hear back soon!

Gini: I’m so excited! And scared.

Izzy: I’ve just levelled up on Fairy Hunters!

Saff: Yay, Izzy!

Gini: Ha ha. How much are you playing it?

Izzy: No comment. Mum’s already yelled at me once when I refused to come down for dinner.

Charlotte: UGH. Parents don’t understand that if you leave halfway through a game you get banned.

Gini: Oh yeah! Thanks for the cool name, Saff.

Izzy: YES. Team Tigerheart. I love it!

I have another plan up my sleeve: my bed sheets. When I spilled the perfume it leaked all over my bed. My entire room smells like wood and rose and orange. Maybe that’s why I’m seeing Aminah everywhere. The perfume is part of my blood now. If I just take the bed sheets to the hospital with me . . .

And that’s when there’s a knock on my door.

Dad lets himself into my room, which he never usually does. At first I think it’s because he’s telling me Mum’s woken up. But then I see his expression, and it makes me stop in my tracks.

‘What is it?’ I ask him, knowing that it’s something big.

‘Can I sit down?’ Dad asks.

‘What is it?’ I repeat. I can’t bear to wait.

The seconds that pass feel like an age, and it’s like Dad’s next words are spoken hours later, like I could fit a whole lifetime into those seconds.