It would have amazing in its prime. It must have once cost a fortune to buy, but the way the moss and the weeds curl high up towards the roof suggest it’s been a long time since it was burnt and it has been left neglected.

Lumin pauses, gets her drawing out of her bag and compares it to the lodge. Amber looks over her shoulder. It’s definitely the right one. The two peaks of the mountains behind are exactly the same and the lake in front curves towards the lodge just as it does in Lumin’s drawing.

Tears gather at the corners of Lumin’s eyes. ‘This is it, isn’t it? This is the place. It’s not just the drawing. I remember that tree,’ she says, pointing to a rowan tree to the side of the house. Then she rushes over to a wooden bench, her face alight. ‘I have a memory! I built a snowman here. I was so happy.’ Then the smile drops from her face as she turns back to the lodge. ‘But then this. What happened to this place?’

Amber, who has followed her, puts her hand on Lumin’s shoulder, squeezing it.

‘I want to go in,’ Lumin says.

‘I don’t know if we can. It might not be safe.’

‘I have to.’ She starts marching towards the house. Amber stays where she is for a moment, taking in the determined curl of Lumin’s fists and the way she continually stumbles in the snow but doesn’t let it faze her, just carries on like it never happened, the ridiculously long rainbow scarf Amber has lent her lifting in the air with every step she takes. She has the guts Amber had as a child. The determination that sent Amber out onto the snow when she shouldn’t have. She feels the battle inside, for caution, for freedom. Will Lumin put herself at risk by going into a half-burnt building? But what if she doesn’t, what secrets will she miss out on?

‘You have to be careful,’ Amber says as she follows her. They walk up and try the door but it’s locked. ‘Let’s look at the back of the house,’ Amber says.

As they walk around the back, they take in the vast garden, the upturned garden chairs laced with snow. There’s a large decking area looking out towards the mountains. Whoever owned this place once cared for it, judging from the little touches like the large ornamental pot holding a dead apple tree nearby. But it’s fallen into such disrepair, plants allowed to grow wild and die, garden furniture rotten or broken.

How long has it been like this?

Amber thinks of Lumin’s memory of the bearded man shouting out for her, the women crying. Maybe that had all happened when the lodge caught fire?