She reaches into her bag for the item she’d been saving for last, a large gingerbread man. She remembers buying one for Katy the Christmas before she passed away. They’d walked around the annual fair hand-in-hand, cheeks rosy from the cold, as Katy nibbled on it. Amber had seen one as she’d been walking to the hospital earlier and knew she had to get it for the girl.

The girl turns it over in her hands, brow furrowed as she examines it. ‘I think I’ve had one of these before.’ She places it against her chest and closes her eyes. ‘Yes, I had one around my neck once, bigger than this. There was a red ribbon through it and I could lift it to my mouth whenever I fancied a bite.’ She opens the cellophane wrapping, deep in her memories as she lifts the biscuit to her mouth. She bites into it and gently chews.

Then her eyes suddenly dart open and she throws the biscuit away.

‘What’s wrong?’ Amber asks.

‘Something bad happened when I had this,’ the girls says in a trembling voice. ‘It happened at the lodge,’ she continues, words stumbling over one another. ‘A man with dark hair, a beard. I’m crying and … and I’m so scared.’ Her breathing grows heavier, her fingers clutching her covers. Amber sits close to her, putting her arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders. ‘We’re reaching out to each other and someone’s screaming,’ the girl continues. ‘And he’s saying, “Lumin, Lumin”.’ The girl looks at Amber with wide eyes. ‘Is that my name, Lumin?’

‘Sounds like it is,’ Amber whispers. She pulls the girl close as she begins to cry.

‘What’s happening in here?’ Amber looks up to see the nurse Jasper knows at the cubicle curtains.

‘She’s just remembering things,’ Amber says as she strokes the girl’s hair. ‘We think her name might be Lumin. It’s an unusual name, so it might help us find out who she is …’

‘What’s all this?’ the nurse asks, surveying all the food Amber brought in.

‘I was trying to help her remember,’ Amber says. ‘And the food’s not exactly great here for a vegetarian,’ she adds.

The nurse picks up the packet of cashew nuts. ‘Are you crazy? How do we know the girl isn’t allergic to nuts?’

‘She isn’t! She’s fine. And can we stop calling her girl now her name might be Lumin?’

‘Might be,’ the nurse says. ‘You can not bring in food like this in. We know nothing about Lumin nor her allergies. It’s too much of a risk.’

Lumin wipes her tears away. ‘Amber’s only trying to help.’

‘Well, it’s not her job. It’s mine,’ the nurse says, crossing her arms.