‘I’m been having nightmares,’ Lumin mumbles, face ashen. ‘About the man with the beard.’ She’s distant, nibbling at her nails as she stares out of the window.

‘Is he hurting you in them?’ Amber asks.

She shakes her head vehemently. ‘No. He’s the one who looks in pain, reaching out for me.’

‘Do you see anyone else in your dreams?’

‘No, I just hear people. Crying. Screaming even.’ Lumin thumps the duvet with her pale fist. ‘Why can’t I remember?’

‘Hopefully the therapist you’re seeing today will help. They have lots of techniques they can use.’

Lumin had been assigned to a therapist whom she’d see each day until she was well enough to leave hospital. And then … well, Amber can’t think about that. The thought of the poor girl being taken into care makes her feel ill.

Lumin yawns and shuffles down her bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders. ‘I’m tired actually. I might have a sleep before the therapy session.’

‘Yes, rest,’ Amber says, watching her with concern. Lumin’s been saying that a lot lately, cutting their visits shorter and shorter. Amber was the same after Katy died, the depression and darkness making her unbearably tired. ‘I’ll pop back later to see how the session went.’

‘You don’t have to, you know. I’m all right on my own.’

‘I want to.’

‘But what about your shop?’

Amber laughs. ‘Not like anyone was buying much from it anyway.’

‘But you’re painting it, aren’t you?’

‘Not in this weather,’ Amber replied, looking out at the falling snow. Truth is, it isn’t just the snow that is stopping Amber from leaving. She doesn’t want to return home to her empty house. Instead, she wants to stay here, in the company of this girl who makes her laugh and feel like she’s doing something of purpose.

‘Really,’ Lumin says firmly. ‘Please get back to your shop. I’ll feel guilty otherwise.’

‘Okay,’ Amber says reluctantly. ‘If you insist. But I’ll be back later.’

Lumin nods, eyelids drooping. ‘See you.’ It seems to Amber as though she drops straight off to sleep. As she leaves the ward, her mind runs over what she can do to avoid going back to her empty flat. She could go to her mum and aunt’s, but she’s not sure she can put up with their constant questions about Jasper. Maybe she should just paint into the night if the snow stops? It’s only three days before the Christmas market starts, after all. But the snow doesn’t look like it’s going to stop and her hand is aching so much. As she’s running over her options, she bumps into the detectives working on Lumin’s case. ‘Any luck?’ she asks.