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‘Ah. Ah – see!’ She points a neatly manicured twig in my face. ‘You’re thinking about it.’

I bat her away. ‘I am not.’

I’ve already signed up; I just haven’t dared to engage anyone in conversation after last time.

Lavender is quiet and contemplative for a few moments. Which, in and of itself, is disconcerting, but when I look at her she’s looking at me, with a half-smile on her lips, and a gentle look in her eyes.

‘I’m not going to push you on it anymore… but I really do think you should give it a try, Mills. I think it might do you some good. And I think, well – without getting soppy I think you’re…’ She struggles a moment longer and I find myself leaning closer to hear the end of that sentence. ‘Well, you’re not ugly and you don’t suck. So, you’d probably slay.’

It’s the nicest thing I think anyone’s ever said to me.

I try to play it cool.

I fail.

I bite my lip. ‘Thanks, Lav. I think you’re pretty great, too.’ I bump shoulders with her.

She pauses in anticipated annoyance, holding up a hand to halt further conversation. ‘Don’t shorten my name.’

I look at her, confused. ‘I thought we were doing a thing.’

‘Just—’ She laughs, shaking her head and shoving me. ‘Just try the fucking dating site, you ghoul.’

The dream begins much the same as it often ends.

I am alone. I am afraid. And the darkness closing in is inevitable. It’s all very depressing, but it’s also very familiar, so at least there’s that.

I’m a faceless child among the many. Either given, forgotten or both. We press into each other like a sea of reeds, moving and stagnating all at once. I’m shoved forward, pushed through into one of the dormitories. The sudden room to breathe is cold and jarring. Some children sprint for the bunks, some the single cots. Most just take whatever gets them space – anything that inhibits them from sharing with the children who take their abandonment out on those smaller and weaker than them.

I run for the last cot in the far-right corner. No one ever takes this spot, and no one bothers fighting me for it. It has bed fleas and metal springs contending for the title of optimum discomfort, and the window beside is eternally jammed, so it’s eternally freezing.

I pull the sheet up over my featureless face and tuck myself into a tight little ball. Sometimes I think if I can make myself small enough, I might disappear. I’m always wrong and I’m never better for it.

But then the cot dips, and my heart with it. Dread seizes my gut.

A hand pulls at the covers. The cot jolts, followed by a high-pitched squeak. I turn to face my fate and… stop.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, small and apologetic. ‘I didn’t know this bed was taken.’

She has softly pointed ears and lilac skin. Her eyes are as big as the twin moons, and just as bright.

Looking at her is the first time I realise I’m anyone. It’s the first time anyone’s bothered with speaking to me, rather than at me. I think I’m a ghost half the time and wish I was the other half.

‘I’ll move,’ she says.

‘No, you can stay.’

Four little words. That’s all it took. Four little words and she beams. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Easy and free, as if she’s never been touched by the violence of the world, as if she’s never truly witnessed the darkness we all swim in. In that moment, I decide if ever there was anything I did worthwhile in my short-lived life, it would be to keep that smile from turning.

The North and Black Star play chase across the sky and Tilly points.

‘I heard that the stars aren’t really stars at all. They’re travelling dragons trying to find the next universe.’

‘I heard that when you die, Stone Angels collect your soul and deliver you to the North Star if you’re good and the Black Star if you’re bad,’.

‘That’s silly,’ she giggles. And I laugh along with her. She smiles and

I grin back. I outstretch my hand for her to take.