It’s a small enough glamour, an everyday charm, and Anouk has withstood it for the last four years, but all the same it pays to be safe, and I turn off the heat under the pot as I make my way towards the back door.

With one hand I carry my case. With the other I cast the sign of Mictecacihuatl like a handful of cobwebs in the air. Death, and a gift. The essential seduction. More potent by far than chocolate.

And now I turn to smile at her. Outside, and the darkness will swallow me whole. The night wind flirts with my red dress. My scarlet shoes are like blood on the snow.

‘Nanou,’ I say. ‘We’ve all got a choice. Yanne or Vianne. Annie or Anouk. Changing Wind or the Hurakan. It’s not always easy, being like us. If you want easy, you’d better stay here. But if you want to ride that wind—’

For a moment she seems to hesitate, but I already know I’ve won.

I won the moment I took on your name, and with it, the call of the Changing Wind. You see, Vianne, I never meant to stay. I never wanted your chocolaterie. I never wanted any part of the sad little life you’ve made for yourself.

But Anouk, with her gifts, is invaluable. So young and yet so talented, and most of all, so easy to manipulate. We could be in New York by tomorrow, Nanou, or London, or Moscow, or Venice, or even good old Mexico City. There are plenty of conquests waiting out there for Vianne Rocher and her daughter Anouk, and won’t we both be fabulous; won’t we go through them all like December wind?

Anouk is watching me, mesmerized. It all makes so much sense to her now that she wonders why she never saw it before. A fair exchange; a life for a life.

And am I not your mother now? Better than life and twice as much fun? Why would you need Yanne Charbonneau? Why would you need anyone?

‘But what about Rosette?’ she protests.

‘Rosette has a family now.’

A moment while she thinks about that. Yes, Rosette will have a family. Rosette does not need to choose. Rosette has Yanne. Rosette has Roux—

Another sob escapes her. ‘Please—’

‘Come on, Nanou. It’s what you want. Magic, adventure, life on the edge—’

She takes a step, then hesitates. ‘You promise you’ll never lie to me?’

‘Never have. Never will.’

Another pause, and the lingering scent of Vianne’s hot chocolate pulls at me, saying try me, taste me in its smoky plaintive dying voice.

Is that the best you can do, Vianne?

But Anouk still seems to hesitate.

She’s looking at my bracelet; at the silver charms that are hanging there: coffin, shoes, ear of maize, hummingbird, snake, skull, monkey, mouse—