Kathryn shook her head in despair. ‘Our seats were a few rows out from the cover of the circle. There was nothing to protect Amelia. Nothing, and no one.’

‘Can you remember anything that happened after that, Amelia?’ asked Leanne.

Amelia folded her shoulders into a hunch. ‘Bits.’

‘Like?’

‘I remember coughing,’ she said, then made a retching sound as if she could still taste the dust and smoke. ‘I was buried under all this stuff and it was dark. I was so scared. I kept calling out, but I didn’t think anyone would find me.’ There were more laboured breaths. ‘I could smell the fire, but I couldn’t move. I broke my leg and one of my arms too.’

‘It must have hurt.’

A tear slid down her cheek as Amelia gasped for air. ‘I don’t remember.’

Kathryn went to take her daughter’s hand, but Amelia pulled away. Kathryn tried again and, when she managed to grasp Amelia’s hand, they held on to each other tightly. ‘Maybe we should take a moment,’ she suggested.

‘I’m fine, Mum,’ Amelia replied, but her chest continued to heave.

‘You’re doing great.’ Leanne took a slow, deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth, inviting Amelia to do the same. ‘Why don’t you tell me about the woman who dug you out? Would that be OK?’

‘She must have heard me crying.’

‘I would have cried too,’ said Leanne, feeling ridiculous because she wanted to cry now. She was reliving someone else’s memory and it was terrifying. ‘Do you remember her finding you?’

Amelia scrunched up her face. ‘I remember she moved something and I screamed. I thought it was more stuff falling on top of me.’

‘What was she like?’

‘Nice.’

‘Can you describe her? What was her hair like? Was her skin light or dark?’

Amelia took more panted breaths. The next memory scared her. ‘She was grey. She looked like the statue in the ceiling.’

‘She would have been covered in dust,’ Kathryn added.

Leanne kept her focus on Amelia, needing the girl to work harder to fill in the gaps her mum was determined to bridge for her. ‘How about her eyes. What colour were they?’

‘I don’t … I don’t know.’

‘And you’re sure it was a woman?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’ asked Leanne.

‘She had a nice voice.’

‘Did she have an accent? Maybe a weird one like mine,’ Leanne said with an encouraging smile that hid her frustration. Mal wasn’t going to get his reunion based on such scant information.

‘I don’t know, I don’t remember,’ Amelia said. Her next series of breaths were jagged, the need to breathe fighting an attempt to hold back tears. She still had hold of her mum’s hand and allowed Kathryn to pull her close.

‘It’s OK, you did really well,’ Kathryn said, a signal that the questioning was over.

‘Sorry,’ Amelia mumbled.