‘Allie? Are you up there?’ Rav calls and I slide the floorboard back into place, tiptoeing across the attic to the hatch.

‘Yes. I’m coming down now.’ I make my way down the ladder, careful not to slip, the keys in my hand, as blood snakes its way down my finger from the splinter.

‘What did you do? You’re bleeding.’ Rav takes my hand but I shake him off.

‘Just a splinter.’ I hold out the keys. ‘Look, I found this under the floorboards. It was poking out from where the mirror was. What do you think it is?’

Rav takes it, his nose wrinkling a little in distaste. ‘God knows. It looks like … well it just looks like some old keys.’

‘What about the stone?’

‘It’s probably just a souvenir someone picked up on the beach and used as a keyring.’ Rav tosses them up in the air and catches them in one fist. ‘We have keys to all the doors here, so they can’t be anything to do with the house. They’re just a bit of old junk, Al, nothing exciting.’

‘Do you think?’ I feel doubtful, but I don’t know why. Maybe I just really wanted to find something exciting.

‘Yes, I do. Isn’t the mirror enough of a find for one day?’ Rav yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth. ‘I’m going to bed; I’ve got a long day tomorrow. Are you coming?’

I nod, following him into the bedroom where he throws the keys onto the chest of drawers and then heads back out into the bathroom to brush his teeth. I wait my turn, then slide into bed beside him, the covers already pulled up around his chin and his eyes tightly closed. I wait a moment, sure by his breathing that he’s not yet asleep.

‘Rav, those keys …’

‘Allie, they’re junk,’ he says, his voice muffled by the duvet. ‘Come on, babe, get some sleep before Leo wakes up again. Love you.’

I settle back into the pillow and close my eyes, hoping I can sleep before the baby wants another feed. When I do sleep, I dream I am in the attic, tucking the feathered keys into the floorboard as I mutter to myself, the stone warm against my skin as breath whispers at the back of my neck.

Chapter Four

Naomi appears as I finish making Mina’s lunch, tapping lightly on the front door so as not to wake the baby.

‘Hey!’ She slips into the hallway and takes off her cardigan and shoes before handing me a tiny hand-tied bunch of alstroemeria – symbol of devotion and friendship – fronds of dark fern woven in between the stems. ‘I brought you these. Ooh, nice mirror.’