She isn’t all in black like the other two. She’s wearing a long leopard skin skirt and a shirt, the sharp white collar making her skin look even richer, the cotton reflecting off it in a fine silver line that circles her neck.

She smiles. An effort to put me at ease, I suppose, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Hello, Ashana. My name is Deborah. Deborah Archer.’ I watch as she removes her black-rimmed glasses, folding the arms down carefully and curling her fine fingers around them. ‘And you’re Ashana.’

‘How do you know my name?’

The girl in the teddy-bear coat knew my name as well.

How do they know my name?

Deborah doesn’t tell me. ‘Ashana Persaud, is that right?’

She says my surname like most people do – Per-sad – and I correct her. ‘Per-sword.’

I don’t know why it matters.

Force of habit, I guess.

‘Sorry. Ashana Per-sword.’

‘How do you know my name?’ I ask again.

She ignores me again. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ashana.’

‘I prefer Ash.’ I don’t know why that matters, either.

‘Ash.’ She nods. ‘Well, Ash, this is Isla Devlin. You met earlier.’ She raises her hand and gestures at the girl in the teddy-bear coat. ‘But she prefers Dev.’

Dev. That’s right. She introduced herself outside the mini-mart.

‘And this.’ When Deborah pauses, I detect a hint of exasperation as she gestures at the girl with the curly hair this time. I’ve known her all of three minutes and I don’t think to question what she’s done to warrant it. ‘Is Esen Budak.’

Esen salutes me with two fingers and a smug smile I want to bite off her face.

‘You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you, Ashana?’

No shit.

‘What do you remember about tonight?’ Deborah prompts when I don’t respond.

I turn my head to look at the girl in the teddy-bear coat. Dev. She smiles and my gaze immediately flicks back to Deborah. She crosses her legs and sits back, her glasses in her hand, and there’s something about the way she tilts her head and looks at me with a sombre sort of concern that makes me feel like I’m in a counselling session. I wait for her to take out a notebook and start writing down everything I say.

‘What’s the last thing you remember, Ashana?’

I hesitate, unsure why she’s asking me that instead of telling me what’s going on.

I wait a beat, hoping that she’ll take the hint and tell me, but she doesn’t flinch and I don’t know whether it’s out of curiosity or politeness, but I find myself answering her. ‘Being outside the mini-mart.’

She nods and I wish she wouldn’t.

It feels like being patted on the head.

‘I remember the car,’ I say carefully. ‘The fireworks.’