The hospital comes into sight. Amber walks in.

‘There was a girl who came in this morning,’ she says when she gets to the reception area. ‘The one found on the beach?’

A glum-looking receptionist wearing an elf hat looks Amber up and down. ‘Yes. And how can I help you?’

‘I was the one who found her. I’d like to see her, if possible?’

The receptionist narrows her eyes at Amber. ‘How do I know that?’

Amber rolls her eyes in exasperation. ‘Seriously?’ She peers into the ward. ‘Is Doctor Fiore on duty?’

The receptionist’s eyes flicker with confusion. ‘He is.’

‘Can you tell him Amber’s here? He can vouch for me.’

The receptionist picks up her phone, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Amber. As she pages Jasper, Amber leans against the counter, taking in the hobbling patients and sullen-looking children. Winter means ice-related falls and viruses galore. Jasper was always his busiest at this time of year. She well remembers the nights huddled up in front of the fire alone, then the joy of him returning and the hot baths they’d share as she scrubbed away his day.

A moment later he appears, striding down the corridor, his holly-and-ivy tie tucked into his shirt. ‘Is everything okay, Amber?’ he asks.

‘This woman won’t let me see the girl,’ Amber explains.

Jasper turns his smile onto the receptionist. ‘It’s all right, Kathleen. Amber was the one who found her. I’ll take her to the ward.’

‘So sorry, Doctor Fiore,’ the receptionist says, her face flushing.

Jasper shakes his head. ‘It’s fine, really, you were only doing your job.’

The woman beams.

‘Looks like you still have a way with the ladies,’ Amber says as Jasper leads her towards the lifts.

Jasper shoots her a look. It had always been a joke between them, how the staff had little crushes on Jasper. It was even funnier as Jasper didn’t seem to notice it at all. But it was obvious to Amber, especially when she attended any of his work get-togethers and saw the way the young girls, some men too, would blush when Jasper talked to them. She didn’t feel she could compete really, not with her deformed hand. That was always her problem. She supposed she was attractive enough with her curves and rosy freckled cheeks; in fact, she knew it from the way men would chat her up. But she was always so aware of her hand. It made her so insecure. Jasper said she was imagining it but he didn’t see things through her eyes, the flickering change in expression whenever she met new people, the sudden pretending that they hadn’t noticed. When she told him that, he’d counter that of course they’d noticed. But so what, it didn’t make her any less attractive to them.