Amber goes to Rosa and quickly pulls her into a hug. ‘Thank you, thank you for everything.’ Then she gives Lumin a big hug too before opening the door, bracing herself for the blizzard.

‘Wait!’ Rosa quickly pours some tea from the teapot into a flask, heaping sugar into it and stirring some milk in. Then she reaches over, grabs a first-aid box and pulls out the foil blanket inside. She clutches Amber’s hands, looking into her eyes. ‘Be careful. The ice will look thick but it’s deceptive. Listen hard. If you hear a crack, run.’

Amber nods and steps outside, the cold air and snow whipping at her cheeks. She pulls her scarf tight around her, pressing her woolly hat down over her head as she surveys the loch.

Then she steps onto it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

As Amber walks towards the lake, she imagines Rosa’s daughter doing the same. She’d made an impulsive decision to run across the lake, like Amber, when she was a child, had made an impulsive decision to go outside in the snow when she’d been told not to. A moment that changed the course of her life. But she had survived. Eleanor hadn’t.

Amber takes a deep, determined breath then steps onto the lake. She waits, listens for cracking. But it feels pretty solid, the snow very deep above the ice. She takes another step, then another. Growing in confidence, she begins to jog.

But when she gets to the centre, she hears something. A snapping sound. She looks down, sees the snow parting.

If you hear a crack, run.

She begins to run and she feels like she isn’t just running from the fractured lake but also her fractured past. She has experienced so much loss, but now she has a chance to get Jasper back, doesn’t she? That thought drives her on, exhaling icy fog as she struggles to breathe.

Then suddenly she’s at the opposite side, safe. She sees the road she’s looking for and ploughs her tired legs through the snow to get to it, so out of breath now. Then there, in the distance, a spark of red. The letterbox. And beyond it, a huge snowdrift like a vast white wall looming over Jasper’s car.

She runs to the car, sweeps the snow from the window and peers in. Jasper is huddled up on the backseat, his eyes closed, face pale. Amber pulls at the door handle, relieved when it opens. She might feel superhuman in her determination to help Jasper, but it doesn’t quite extend to pulling car doors off their hinges.

His eyes spring open as she slides inside. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Are you real?’