It’s a little scary at night, when the sun goes down and the shadows from the ivory trees outside cast spindly pictures onto the floor.

Ciel walks from the sitting room, where he had finished watching TV for the night, his big eyes blinking heavily. He feels the weight of sleep calling his name.

There’s no mummy to tuck him in, no daddy to read him a bedtime story, but Ciel is used to it. They’re so often away that it’s like they don’t exist. He talks to himself as he carefully folds the covers under his body, feeling safe once he’s bundled himself up in blankets.

His big brother Jayce’s bed stands at the other side of the room. No one had got rid of it yet, even though Jayce had died months ago. The moonlight from the window casts light onto it. If Ciel squints really hard, he can almost pretend… he’s there.