It’s funny to think she doesn’t like going in on her own. She seems so confident; she glows with a kind of ready-for-anything energy.

‘Are we in the same form room? I didn’t see you there yesterday . . .’

‘Oh, I think you must’ve come in late, I was running an errand for Miss Olive. She has trouble with printers. So, about Winterspell,’ she says, as we head in, her voice low. ‘Do you live there? What can you tell me?’

My heart thuds. Why do all things lead back to Winterspell?

‘Uh, I don’t know. Like what?’

‘I wanted to go for a bit of an explore in there, but my mum says it’s forbidden – something about pollution in the water and ancient trees that fall without warning. And the kids at school say it’s haunted. Which can’t be true?’

She stares at me as we head up the steps to our form room. Unblinking owl eyes.

Can you start a friendship with lies?

No.

‘Ah, I don’t know about haunted, exactly,’ I say. ‘But my nan says we should avoid it.’

‘Even though you live so close?’

I hold in a sigh. She’s not going to give up so easily, but it’s the last thing I need this morning. My worlds are getting tangled already; with every step I take towards humanity, Winterspell creeps further in.

‘We used to go in there sometimes,’ I say, ‘but it’s creepy, and it’s got worse. Strange noises at night; weird lights flashing between the trees.’

It was supposed to be a little bit of truth to put her off, but now her eyes are glowing. ‘Really? Wow. I do believe in ghouls, you know. My Mamani has some very creepy stories about them. And if you were a dark spirit like they are, then an old forest like Winterspell would be the perfect place to hide . . . I’m not sure I’d want to be there, but everyone’s different. Mum says it’s the pollution that makes the mist rise when the sun sets, but I don’t know. And Yanny won’t tell me anything.’

‘He lives in there?’ I ask, my voice thin at the thought of the dark spirit who does hang out in Winterspell, somewhere. My father, who does not love strongly enough to find his way through.

‘Well, I think he does. He gets very strange about it when I ask him.’

‘Where do you live?’ I ask, taking my coat off as we find seats in the form room.

‘In town,’ she says. ‘It’s OK. I didn’t really want to move, but Mum got a new job, and so . . . here we are.’ She stares out of the window. ‘We lived in the city before; it feels quiet here. Everything’s a bit strange. Mum says it’s just because it’s new, but I don’t know. I think it’s genuinely weird.’

I grin as Miss Olive starts reading out the register. ‘It’s definitely weird.’

‘Zara Nassar?’