‘No,’ Amber says, shaking her head adamantly. ‘There will be a reason. They might be abroad. You might live in another country. Some people just don’t watch TV, read the papers. If you’re eighteen, maybe you’re at uni?’

‘But it’s Christmas soon. Surely if I am at uni, they’d be expecting me home?’

Amber sighs. ‘True. But that gives us even more reason to be hopeful. Your family will definitely be wondering where you are if you have plans with them for Christmas.’

Lumin peers out of the window at the soft falling snow. ‘Maybe.’ She’s silent and sullen for a few moments but then she turns back to Amber. ‘Does the snow remind you of what happened to your hand?’

Amber tries to grasp at the memories from that day. She was so young, nearly five, so there are brief glimpses. She remembers the snow up to her shins. Air so cold it seemed to seep right beneath her skin. The horrible aching pain in the bones and sinews of her gloveless hand. Then after, the red and blue lights of the ambulance and the glaring white ceiling lights as she was stretchered down hospital corridors.

‘It’s hard to remember,’ Amber says. ‘I was at an age where memories haven’t quite formed yet. I just know what my mum told me.’

‘And what’s that?’

Amber looks at the stumps on her left hand. ‘I was desperate to play in the snow but it was too cold and the flakes were coming down too heavy. But I didn’t care. I got out of the house somehow. Mum says I was a handful back then.’ Amber rolls her eyes. ‘I managed to get myself locked out. I didn’t realise it though, I was too busy running around and building a snowman.’ Her eyes flit over to Lumin then back to the road again. ‘I lost a glove in the process and I remember the pain of the cold was so bad, I started crying. But the snow had turned into a blizzard by then and I couldn’t find my way back. I was out there for over an hour before someone found me.’

‘Your mother didn’t notice for that long?’ Lumin asks. ‘Sorry,’ she quickly adds. ‘I’m not judging. I mean, what do I know?’

‘It’s fine,’ Amber says. ‘I’ve wondered the same, especially as my mum is such a good mum, you know? But then when I had Katy, I realised how exhausting it can be, how distracted you get with an endless pile of tasks.’ She gives a curt nod. ‘What happened happened.’

‘Have you asked your mum exactly what happened?’