‘Why was that, do you think?’

I hang my head and try not to show my frustration. She says it kindly enough, but I don’t have time for soul searching. I need her to tell me what to do.

‘I don’t know. The first time it happened, I was angry. I tried feeling that way again, but it didn’t work. Why would it work and then stop?’

She looks at me blankly. ‘Only you can answer that.’

There must be something she can tell me. ‘OK: what will it take for me to become a witch? How will I know when it happens?’

She chuckles. ‘You will know.’ I frown and she leans over, nudging my shoulder. ‘There isn’t a series of tests for you to complete like a knight on some epic quest, if that’s what you imagine.’

I know she’s trying to make me feel better, but I can’t bring myself to smile. Not when my mum is locked in a cage. I don’t have time for riddles, I need to do this.

‘I couldn’t turn into a bird. I haven’t been able to throw energy. What if I can’t –’

Her voice turns steely. ‘We continue. We continue until we can no longer …’ She stops and takes a sharp breath. ‘We cannot do this for you, but we will keep trying our best to help you. You can only try your best.’

I nod, letting her words sink in. Have I been trying my best, though? I didn’t let Moronoe help me in the cave and I refused to say her name on the beach. I find myself fiddling with the silver stud in my nose – a tiny act of defiance when I was fifteen years old. My foster family at the time insisted I only wore the clothes they chose for me. I went into town one day and got the piercing on a whim. Not to annoy them, though I knew it would, but because I wanted to feel like an individual. At that age, my identity was tied up in my clothes and how I wore my hair. Choosing how I looked meant something to me. I fought to hold on to it, the same way I got into fights in the care home if anyone touched my stuff – not just because it was mine, but because it was all I had.

I don’t want to tell Morgan that I haven’t been trying my best because I’m afraid I’ll lose my sense of self, but now isn’t the time to keep quiet. There’s too much at stake.

‘Sometimes I can sense Moronoe inside me. I can hear her thoughts and see her memories. On the beach earlier, she wanted me to say her name but I didn’t.’