‘The stag makes sense, but I don’t remember there being any wolves in Bambi, let alone any royal wolves.’ Binah delicately flicked through the pages, the nostalgic illustrations making Lottie wince.

‘No, there aren’t.’

Binah tapped her chin. ‘Maybe they’re trying to say the wolves aren’t meant to be in power.’

‘A usurper?’ Lottie exclaimed, shocked by the idea.

‘Whoa!’ Binah held her hands up. ‘Slow down – there’s no point in jumping to conclusions.’

‘I just … I don’t get it,’ Lottie groaned. ‘Claude didn’t want to take the throne of Maradova. That’s why he was exiled and Ellie’s dad took the crown.’ Lottie shoved the letter in her pocket. ‘Why’s he doing all this? What does he want?’

‘Maybe that’s the whole point,’ Binah said. ‘That there’s more to it.’

Lottie tried to focus, but her brain was still fuzzy after her run-in with Haru. He had left her feeling paranoid. She felt as if she might look up to see floating eyeballs staring at her. Even working with Binah no longer felt like a weight off her shoulders. Now it was another thing she’d been given permission to do, and, worst of all, the book had to be Bambi.

‘I always hated this book,’ Lottie confessed, tucking it underneath her arm so they could find a quiet spot at the back. ‘It was the one story I’d never let my mother read to me.’

‘Because of what happens to Bambi’s mum?’

The moment they were seated beneath the library’s skylight, Binah turned to her inquisitively, the crown of curls arranged on top of her head bouncing like a little exclamation mark.

‘Surprisingly no.’ Lottie flicked through the yellowed pages to find the part that always made her so upset, and she wasn’t sure if it was her residual frustration at Haru cornering her, or her anger at Claude and his terrible game, but she found herself scowling at the pages.

‘See here.’ She pointed down at the image of the great stag looming over the young Bambi, antlers like a crown above his head. ‘This is the prince of the woods; he is the stag that has survived the longest in the unpredictable forest, evading all hunters, humans and predators. He is wise and ancient, and Bambi is his son.’

Binah listened attentively, so Lottie went on.

‘Yet, for all his wisdom and knowledge, when Bambi loses his mother, he still doesn’t tell him he’s his father; he waits until Bambi has learned everything there is to know, passing on the title, and the cycle continues with two young fawns, Bambi’s children, who he promptly ignores in the same way as his father.’ Slamming the book shut sent a large cloud of dust into the air and Lottie squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I hate it,’ she whispered.

Binah’s reaction was not what she expected.