Amber feels her cheeks flush, all the old feelings rushing back. ‘Don’t say that.’

Jasper opens his mouth to say something else but a shadow falls across them. They both look up to see Detective King standing over them, slightly out of breath. ‘Can you come up, Miss Caulfield? Lumin’s a bit …’ He pauses. ‘She’s a bit distressed and said she won’t calm down until she sees you.’

Amber quickly stands and Jasper grabs her arm. ‘She’s not Katy,’ he says softly.

‘I know,’ Amber hisses. ‘Jesus.’ She shrugs his hand off then follows the officer to the lift.

Lumin is sitting scrunched up in the corner of her bed, her head to her knees. Magazines are scattered on the floor and a cup of tea has been overturned, the brown liquid spilling over the side table. Lumin’s bed covers are thrown to the side and Amber can see her bare feet, the remnants of blue nail varnish on her toes. It strikes Amber that she hadn’t noticed that before. It reveals a life before this – a carefree life that had Lumin painting her nails with a smile on her face.

‘Lumin?’ Amber says gently, going to her and crouching in front of her. Lumin’s head darts up. She looks ready for confrontation but her face relaxes when she realises it’s Amber.

A doctor walks in, a tall Indian man with a beard. He takes in the magazines that are scattered on the floor and the spilt tea. ‘Everything okay here?’ he asks.

‘She got a bit upset at the questioning,’ Detective Matthews explains.

‘Very common with head injuries,’ the doctor says as he looks at Lumin’s notes. ‘Sudden changes in temperament, outbursts, depression, just like the flashes of white and headaches you’ve been getting, Lumin. All par for the course.’

‘You’re making it seem like I had a tantrum,’ Lumin says in a fierce voice. ‘I was just being made to feel like I’m somehow making this all up,’ she adds, staring at the two police officers.

‘It’s nothing personal,’ Detective King says. ‘We’re just trying to figure out exactly where you come from so we can get you home again.’

‘You don’t think I want to go home?’ Lumin says. Amber takes the seat next to Lumin’s bed, watching as she wipes her tears away. She seems older now. Maybe even over eighteen. There’s a new confidence in her face, the vulnerability less pronounced.

‘Amber’s here now,’ Detective Matthews says gently. ‘That’s what you wanted. Shall we continue? Or we can save it for another day.’

‘It’s fine,’ Lumin says, pulling the blanket over her legs. ‘Just … just ask your questions.’