Catching Ellie’s eye in the mirror, Lottie beamed, a smile that would have fooled anyone else – and Ellie’s stomach began to burn, the Maravish word she’d had written into her ribcage still not healed. She winced, putting a hand to her torso.

‘Ellie,’ Lottie said tentatively, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but … did you get a tattoo?’

Ellie couldn’t meet Lottie’s eyes, but nodded silently. She could tell Lottie wanted to know more but she wasn’t prepared to share any details. This tattoo, and what it meant, was for her alone.

Lottie understood the silence. ‘It’s so cold now –’ she gave a little shudder to emphasize her point – ‘might be time to sleep with an extra blanket.’

Lingering in the bathroom, Ellie could sense the plea in Lottie’s tone; her Portman was desperate for her to make one of her classic quips, to prove everything was still normal. Ellie complied, always weak for that puppy-dog look. ‘Doesn’t Mr Truffles and your mountain of other stuffed animals keep you warm enough?’

Lottie’s eyes lit up at the perceived olive branch. ‘They need a blanket too,’ she said, smiling.

Lottie finally headed to her bed, satisfied that Ellie had been appeased – but they both knew that things were anything other than normal.

There had been an unspoken discomfort hanging in the air since Lottie’s decision to cut her father out of her life. The very thought sent a fresh wave of hot-needle pain over Ellie’s tattoo, and she tried her best to cover up the wince, both she and Lottie pretending not to notice.

‘Night, Ellie,’ Lottie cooed, cuddling up with her stuffed pig.

It was too much seeing Lottie snuggled and sleepy with the squishy soft toy, the kind of cute that makes your chest feel like it’s going to explode if you don’t squeeze something.

‘Sweet dreams,’ Ellie murmured, rolling over to get the sight of Lottie out of her head before it made her tattoo hurt any more. And so she prepared for another sleepless night.

She could tell when Lottie was out cold, her breathing deep and whistling like a lullaby – the trigger for Ellie to begin her nightly routine. Sometimes she’d manage to sleep for a little while, but now that winter had arrived, with the Christmas holidays and time with her family slowly approaching, Ellie found her mind endlessly buzzing. So she did what she always did now, and got up and went to the bathroom to rub salve on the puffy area where the henna was slowly fading.

‘Why do you hurt so much?’ Ellie whispered to herself, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.