I hesitated. A hot, dizzy feeling swept across my face. Mother’s rhythmic brushing continued, falling in time with every other click of the huge grandfather clock. A few months ago, Mother had painted the walls with brown and orange circles, filling in the patches between each circle with mustard-yellow paint so that no white remained. With the heavy burnt-orange curtains pulled shut over the wooden boards that were nailed over the windows, the room was a pit of gloom. Not a shred of natural light penetrated the darkness, though a little light came from a ceramic mushroom lamp in the corner. The roses reeked. Roses needed light and air to grow. It was no wonder they were dead.

I swallowed and licked my lips.

I had never been outside. I wasn’t allowed outside.

My question simmered in my throat. I tried to swallow it back down, but it forced its way up like sick. ‘Mother, I’ve been thinking and, well, as it’s my thirteenth birthday, I was wondering if, maybe, at dusk, just before dark, I could go out into the back garden – just for a few minutes or so. Surely that wouldn’t be too—’

Mother’s hand froze halfway down my back. My head throbbed. For a terrifying second I thought she was going to hit me with the hard plastic side of the hairbrush. I waited, unable to breathe, my eyes fixed on the curtains. Tension made my back rigid.

‘No,’ she said quietly.

Her brushing resumed but this time the brush did not lightly scrape my scalp; bristles dug in so forcefully that they scraped through the surface of my skin. I winced and tried to breathe deeply, choking back tears of frustration, disappointment, gritting my teeth with anger – angry at myself for asking when I knew what the answer would be – frustrated with Mother for not even considering what I believed to be a great idea, and all the while trembling with fear.

‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ she hissed. ‘It’s for your own safety.’

She dragged the brush over my grazed scalp a second time.

‘I know. I’m so sorry, Mother,’ I whispered quickly, dropping my head.

She placed the brush on the table and walked around to face me. Her eyes were sad as she crouched down in front of my knees and gently pushed my hair behind my ears.

‘You know that I love you – that all I want is to protect you, don’t you, Little Doll?’

I nodded and looked at her glistening eyes. She sighed and stood up. Her eyeballs glinted, the wetness gone in an instant. ‘I have a special surprise planned for your birthday.’

I tried to smile up at her and blinked back tears. ‘Gosh. Thank you, Mother!’

‘That’s all right. You’re to study mathematics this morning. Off you go. I’ll be in to check your answers in one hour.’