She acted like she hadn’t heard me. ‘Rotten. That’s what she is. That’s what you all are.’ Her eyes became glittering jewels of black hatred and she advanced quickly.

‘Get back!’ I screamed, but she kept coming, moving faster, holding the knife high so that it caught the light.

‘You have to be punished. You were never going to learn your lesson; I see that now.’

She lunged forward with an unearthly scream that echoed round us. The knife came. Long and lethal. The knife she used to slice through raw meat.

I threw myself to the side, hit ground, saw momentum carry her forward then down, down, down into the place I remembered.

Her body thwacked hard earth and I thought I heard bones crack. She gave a bitter, twisted screech.

I rolled onto my hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the hole. It was deeper than Mother was tall. Cube-like in shape, its steep walls were formed out of dark soil. She lay on her side on a bed of green and yellow leaves, her greasy hair snaking out around her head like Medusa’s serpents in the myth. Both of her legs were bent at awkward angles. The knife was planted in her thigh. Blood bloomed and spread around her like lava on snow, puddled in the leaves and seeped into the soil. She looked like a bleeding scarecrow. She stared up at me, eyes glistening, and raised one arm.

‘Mirabelle, please help me. Please help Mother. Mother needs you. Mother loves you.’

Tears filled my eyes.

I turned to go.

‘Mirabelle! Don’t you dare! Come back! Help me! Help Mother!’

I turned back and looked down at her crumpled body and dark, crazed eyes. More blood oozed from her leg onto the fallen leaves, turning them black.

I sighed. In a low, steady voice I said, ‘My name’s not Mirabelle and you’re not my mother.’

Chapter 48

I edged away from the hole and collapsed.

For a long time – too long – I knelt on the damp soil and stared at a tree, my body racked with shivers. Mother continued to cry for my help. I put my hands over my ears and rocked back and forth and attempted to block out her voice, but it was useless.

When I thought I could stand without passing out, I pushed myself to my feet and turned my back on her. I tried to ignore her screams, but they chased me like thunder, rolling closer and closer as I stumbled further and further away.

With screams ringing in my ears, I moved on, running, knowing I had to be quick. Olivia was bleeding. She was also starving. If I didn’t help her reach a hospital soon, she was going to die.