It feels like a feat to walk past the little boutiques and stores that previously have lured her in. Everything she’s talked about with Magda has landed with her this time: that it’s okay to be successful, it’s okay to feel proud in her work. She’s been thinking about it a lot since she found her dad online. He’s still alive, and for all intents and purposes still a drunk, and still angry. She found three articles about three separate arrests, and it hits her, as she walks, that he must have been a miserable son of a gun to tell a fifteen-year-old that she was worthless. A normal person does not do that. A sane, rational person, who you might be inclined to listen to, does not do that.

She sits on a bench by the Christmas market and watches a small merry-go-round with kids wrapped in warm coats and thick gloves sitting in little red cars or pink aeroplanes going around and around, their grown-ups clapping excitedly every time they circle back and come into view. She doesn’t hear the women next to her at first, when they say her name. They have to repeat themselves to get her to look up.

‘Are you Evie Bird?’

She looks at them. They’re about her age, mid to late thirties. One has long wavy hair down past her shoulders, with a lilac bobble hat and hopeful eyes. The other is wearing earmuffs and has a nose ring. They have their arms looped through each other’s, like how Evie walks with Magda. And it’s the damnedest thing, but instead of shying away, lying, or acting small, she looks them both in the eye and says, proud as she can muster: ‘Yes. I am. Hello.’

‘AH!’ says Bobble Hat. ‘We read online that you were part of the filming! We’ve been to set, but you know – it’s a lot, waiting to see your favourite author. Like stalking!’

‘We’re huge fans,’ says Earmuffs. ‘Honestly. Your books …’

The other ones supplies: ‘They’re our favourites. I can’t believe you’re here!’

Evie smiles. They’re so enthusiastic!

‘What are your names?’ she asks, and Bobble Hat says she’s Ingrid, and Earmuffs is Petra.

‘Can we join you?’ Petra asks, sweetly. ‘Just for a moment.’

Evie finds herself nodding. ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘I was just admiring the market. It’s so festive.’

‘We love Christmas,’ Ingrid says. ‘You’re part of our Christmas tradition! We …’ She breaks off here to ask Petra something in German, and Petra says: ‘Buddy-read’.

‘We buddy-read your Christmas book every December, when it comes out,’ she says. ‘And in the summer, on vacation, we take turns with your summer book.’

‘That’s so nice to hear,’ Evie says, and she means it. ‘Your English is good – do you read me in German, or do you get the American copy?’