Eight leads on. We follow him down a hill and find ourselves in a wide-open valley. Everywhere I look there are snow-tipped Himalayan Mountains. Closer by, there are patches of forest with fields of yellow and purple flowers in between. It’s beautiful. We’re all soaking it in as we walk when Crayton breaks the silence.

‘So. Who were Reynolds and Lola?’

Eight slows so we can walk together. He reaches down to pick a handful of purple flowers only to crush them in his hand. ‘Reynolds was my Cêpan. He laughed a lot. He was always laughing. He laughed when we were on the run and when we slept under a bridge or hid in someone’s leaky barn in a monsoon.’ He turns to look at us each in turn. ‘Does anyone remember him?’

We all shake our heads, even Crayton. I wish I could. But I was only two years old when we made the journey.

Eight continues. ‘He was a great Loric and an even better friend. But Lola . . . Lola was a human he fell in love with when we first got here. That was eight years ago. They met at the market, and from that moment on they were inseparable. Reynolds was so in love. Lola moved in with us very quickly. She barely left our house.’ Eight kicks a patch of flowers. ‘I should have known she couldn’t be trusted by the way she looked at me, how she always wanted to know where I was, what I was doing. I wouldn’t let her near my Chest, no matter how many ways she tried. But Reynolds trusted her so much, he eventually told her who we were. He told her everything.’

‘Not smart,’ I say. John told Sarah, and look at where that got them. Trusting humans with our secret is too risky. Love only makes it more risky.