The smile slips from Daisy’s face and she pulls herself into him so she can whisper in his ear. He nods, then extends an arm and crooks his index figure, gesturing for me to approach.

A smirk plays on his lips as I walk towards him. Daisy reaches up a hand and caresses the side of his cheek, her eyes never leaving my face.

“Hello, Emma, we haven’t spoken since your detox ended.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“I’ve been busy.” He gives Daisy a squeeze. She squeals with delight and nuzzles her face into his chest.

“The dress suits you.” Isaac looks me up and down again. “It’s very … simple.”

Daisy snorts with laughter and presses a hand to her mouth. She’s wearing one of Cera’s long, turquoise skirts and a white vest top with no bra. An indigo headscarf is twisted in her hair.

“Did you enjoy your detox, Emma?” Isaac asks.

“Yes,” I say evenly.

“Are you grateful?”

I grit my teeth and nod. The sooner he gets bored with this game, the sooner I can slip away and leave.

“Great. That’s very good. Would you do anything for Ekanta Yatra, Emma?”

“Of course I would, Isaac.”

He gestures towards the centre of the patio with a nod of his head. “Would you put your hand over the fire, Emma?”

The fire crackles and spits as the goat revolves round and round and round. Its eyes are black holes, its jaw slack, tongue protruding. The skin on its face is red and crisp.

“Of course.”

“Go on, then.” As he points at it, Daisy tumbles from his lap and gives a snort of indignation.

“Okay.”

I take a step towards the fire. Isaac isn’t going to make me go through with this. He’s just showing off. He’s playing with me to amuse Daisy and Leanne.

“Hurry up!” he shouts, and I take another step forward. The flames leap and crackle, and then it hits me – a wall of heat so overpowering I’m forced to retreat. As I step back, I smack straight into Leanne. She’s twisted her hair into two tight buns on the top of her head. Her long pink fringe hangs over the thick black frame of her glasses, but I can still see her eyes, piggy-small and dark behind the glass.

“Go on” – she shoves me between the shoulder blades – “do what you’re told.”