—I want to introduce you all to a friend of mine. She’s a young student from the Soviet Union!

He was forced to raise his voice as the audience roared, some in approval, some in disgust. The audience were scandalized, unable to believe the scene before them. Elena couldn’t help but laugh. Austin lifted her hand, still gripping the flag, into the air.

—We could not be from more different backgrounds. Yet we are united in our desire for equality. We were born on different continents yet we believe n the same things! Fairness! Justice!

Cameras continued to flash. Elena was euphoric with her success. The moment was everything she’d hoped for.

The deafening noise brought Jesse Austin and the entire crowd to silence, a noise like a clap of thunder, so loud and sudden it was as if the entire island of Manhattan had split in two. The crate shook. Vibrations travelled through her leg. Stunned silence remained after the sound stopped and this was as shocking and strange as sunlight breaking through the night sky. The silence lasted no longer than a second, replaced by a painful ringing that seemed to grow louder and louder until her ears hurt. She smelt smoke. She smelt metal. Some of the demonstrators were standing dumbstruck, motionless and frozen. Others had their mouths wide open. Elena slowly lowered her arms – the Soviet flag was gone, it lay on the sidewalk, spread out like a picnic blanket. Austin was standing beside her with one hand on his chest as though the national anthem were playing. He moved nearer to Elena, closer, leaning into her, about to whisper some secret. But he didn’t say a word, falling, knocking into her, toppling like a tree, a giant ancient oak. They both fell to the sidewalk, pushed in different directions. Austin clattered into the steel barriers, while Elena fell into the protestors, her head against someone’s chest, grabbing on to clothes to slow her descent, before hitting the sidewalk.

Elena lay among the demonstrators’ feet, kicked as panic took hold and the crowd stampeded. She wrapped her arms around her head and watched through the feet and legs as Mrs Austin dropped to her husband. The crowd broke free of the confines, pouring onto the street, smashing down more of the barricades. A handmade banner landed on the ground near her. She stood up, only to be kicked down to her knees. She tried again, her ears still ringing, managed to get to her feet. From the opposite direction the police marched forward, batons raised, protestors smashing into them.

Elena limped forward before falling beside Jesse. His white shirt had turned red, the colour spreading at speed, conquering every visible patch of white. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Mrs Austin cry out:

—Help us!

The police were forming a circle around the scene of the crime. Only a few demonstrators remained.