Only then do I remember that all this is being livestreamed. My audience can see everything I can, and I wonder if it matters anymore.

I touch the camera wrapped around my head and try to recall when I got so comfortable wearing it.

We put our lives out there in all sorts of ways—on Instagram and Facebook and Twitter and Snapchat—but it’s always edited. We handpick our best moments and hope the world gives a shit.

But this isn’t a highlights reel. This is just a Monday. Not your average one maybe, but not cut up and stuck back together to make it more interesting.

I hope Danny is pleased with my first attempt at directing, even if it’s our final show.

Chapter 63

That evening, we hang out in a huge living room with comfy sofas, all chatting about our first day. The volunteers stand around the edges, but only Emily and I notice.

“Are they guarding us?” she asks.

“They freak me out,” I say. “Do you think they’re being weird?”

“They look drugged up,” Emily says, and I know what she means.

They have a dozy kind of happiness on their faces, smiling like drunk people laughing at jokes inside their own heads.

Mr. Humphries is standing by a bookcase, and the woman he ate dinner with claps, and everyone quiets down.

“We hope you’ve enjoyed your first day,” she says. “My name is Andrea, and I would like you to act like kangaroos.”

We stare at one another, wondering if we misheard, but then she claps again and shouts, “Get up! Come on! This is not a drill. I want to see those kangaroos.”

She’s bouncing on the spot, and next to her, Mr. Humphries is smiling like this is totally normal. When she rubs her nose on his shoulder, he laughs.

“Get up!” Andrea shouts. “Get up, get up, get up!”

I stare at Emily, who glances at my head cam, then back at the bouncing foolish person.

I check that the red light is still on, because whatever this is, Danny won’t want me to miss it.

Pav whispers something to Ali, and Andrea swings around and says, “You! You are my first kangaroo.”

Pav shakes her head and looks down, but the woman jumps forward and sticks her head under Pav’s chin and nudges it, then sniffs her face.

“Is that fear I can smell?” Andrea asks, but Pav doesn’t answer, and everyone is doing their best not to make eye contact while still watching to see what happens next.

Then Andrea grabs Pav’s hand and pulls her up. Holding both arms, she starts pulling her up and down, whispering, “Boing, boing, boing,” getting louder until she’s shouting it, “BOING! BOING! BOING!”

And when she lets go, Pav keeps bouncing.