Hirana, Bambi, wolves and hunters, and the question that kept her up at night: Why is Jamie your Partizan?

She still didn’t have the answer, she still didn’t understand why, but she knew one thing now with crystalline certainty.

Turning back to her sketches, Lottie stared down at her depictions of Jamie, the stag, and Ellie, the wolf, a story so simple and all it had needed was Hirana’s name to solve it.

What Claude was trying to tell her was that Jamie’s mother had been murdered.

Lottie stood up so fast the world started spinning. She dropped her sketchbook as her legs buckled with the effort of holding her up, sending her crashing to the ground. Fumbling for something to grab hold of, her hands met her bag, its contents spilling around her.

‘What does this mean, Claude?’ she said out loud, fists balled on either side of the sketchbook where the photograph of Jamie’s mother stared back at her. ‘What happened to Hirana? Why are you telling me this?’

With no further clues she felt hopelessly lost, her mind grinding to a halt. She needed something, anything else, to explain Claude’s message.

Pulling herself up, Lottie searched for her tiara. She stared at it, watching the rainbow orbs in the opal swirling in the light like a hypnotic spiral. It felt strange to hold, not giving her any of the soothing properties it usually did; instead it reminded her of another problem.

In the back of her mind, pulling at her for attention, she knew she’d promised Jamie she’d focus on her PoP tribute if he shared something personal with her, but how could she after this discovery?

The very thought of opening up those books and thinking of Liliana made her recoil, as if even touching the pages would pull her further away from Ellie and the Wolfsons – further away from the only real family she had left, at the very moment they needed her the most.

‘I’m a Portman,’ Lottie announced to no one at all, willing the bad feeling away.

The opal moon of the tiara winked rainbow light at her again and the beam landed on the wolf pendant that hung heavily round her neck.

‘I don’t need this. I’ve found a new family, and I need to help them.’ Lottie tried to believe herself but the words felt like excuses.

Shoving the tiara into its box, she clenched her fists again. She was going to find the meaning behind Claude’s messages, and that meant doing something completely irresponsible. It was time to find out what was in Haru’s secret box.

Lottie shut her sketchbook and slotted it, along with Liliana’s diary, into her bag, patting the fabric to check everything was safe and sound.