Kokoro had already resigned herself to the fact that she would not be seeing the others. But pinning her last hopes on one final question, she asked, ‘Was I the only dropout student that you heard about today?’

Ureshino and Masamune had both said they’d met Ms Kitajima.

Ms Kitajima brushed away the hair that had fallen over Kokoro’s eyes.

‘That’s right,’ she said.

She was simply answering the question she was asked, and didn’t seem to find it at all significant.

‘So you didn’t hear anything from Ureshino-kun or Masamune-kun’s families?’

‘Hm?’ was all Ms Kitajima said in response. Kokoro shut her eyes tight. It was just like the nurse had said – there was no one by those names in the school. Kokoro couldn’t believe it, but there it was.

‘Nothing,’ Kokoro said.

So it’s true, she thought, as her mind reeled.

What had it all meant – all these days up till now?

Was the world of the castle in the mirror not real?

Now that she thought about it, it seemed like an all-too-convenient miracle.

How could her bedroom connect up so efficiently with a different world?

Meeting these kids, thinking they were her friends – wasn’t it all just wish fulfilment?

And then she thought: Is there something seriously wrong with me?

Masamune and Ureshino and Aki and Fuka and Subaru and Rion.

Had she been living since May, without realizing it, in this delusion of being with them, when in reality she’d been alone the entire time?

The thought that she’d gone crazy chilled her, but another thought frightened her even more. From tomorrow I may not be able to go to the castle, ever again.

‘Kokoro-chan, I’m sorry,’ Ms Kitajima said. ‘When you fainted a while ago you dropped a note, and I’m afraid I saw what it said.’

Kokoro slowly bit her lip. The contents of that letter came rushing back. The rounded handwriting on the envelope. Miori calling herself horrible. The boy she’d referred to obliquely as you-know-who was, of course, Chuta Ikeda. Kokoro didn’t care that he might have been Miori’s boyfriend, or that they’d broken up.

They didn’t understand each other at all, Kokoro realized despairingly.

What Kokoro had been through, and the way Miori Sanada saw things, didn’t mesh at all. Had they even happened in the same world?

She’d agonized over whether to come today, thinking she might be killed, and here was Miori settling the whole matter by saying, in a throwaway fashion – of a boy that Kokoro had nothing to do with – I thought if you still like him, I’d cheer you on. Kokoro couldn’t put into words how frustrated it made her feel. It was so humiliating her insides felt like they were on fire.

I want to kill her, she thought.

She shut her eyes as tears of frustration welled up.