This summer Circus Phoenix pitched its tents by the old harbour, between the warehouses and cranes. There was the smell of tar, wet string and candyfloss from the first, shy stalls. I watched eccentrics carry the poles and a clown sketch the plan of the arena. A flag creaked at the top of the largest pole, promising something rare today. I am fourteen years old and my name is Lena, and the harbour is my square. My dad works on the boats, so I know every shortcut and safe passages. I wrote to the circus director, Mrs Mirabel, asking for help with rehearsals. She wrote back quickly: "You can carry props and learn from the technicians". That same day I met Ivo, a young acrobat who hates silence. There was a rumour that Phoenix was returning with a forbidden number called the Shadow Show. Apparently the audience there can see their own reflections and can take a step forward. As I was helping with the ropes, I found a black ticket in a box with the words. "When the lights go out, keep to the beat of your heart" - the letters trembled as if on water. Ivo looked at me seriously and slipped the ticket back in. He whispered only: "Don't carry it by your heart if you are afraid of the echo". In the evening, the first bell sounded and the tent darkened like the sky before a storm. Mrs Mirabel squeezed my shoulder and handed me a heavy silver whistle. "When I tap three times, you raise the side curtain and stand by the mirror." The audience took their seats and the drums tapped out a rhythm I knew from the ticket. As the lights dimmed, I saw that the curtain was heavier than it looked. Behind it stood a tall mirror, and in it someone moved first. It wasn't me, although I raised my hand, checking that the reflection was listening. Instead of me, a gloved hand rose, pointing up the empty, dark ramp. The drums fell silent, the whistle froze, and Ms Mirabel gave no signal. And then the mirror fogged up from the inside, drawing the letter that formed my name. Clips crackled behind my back, as if someone had passed between the curtains without a shadow. Ivo stuck his head out from behind the box and showed me a thumbs down. A chill fell from the mirrors and a silence, thick as smoke, entered the arena. I was already lifting the curtain when my reflection whispered a word that no one here knew.