‘For god’s sake, there’s no time for that.’ Ada pulled him out of the way. ‘We’re trapped, the doors are locked,’ she yelled down to James.

‘Hold on! I’ve found someone. We’re going to take the door off its hinges.’

Ada had never felt more relieved and more useless. Take the door off its hinges. Of course. It was petty to feel resentful. James was going to save all those people. The ones she’d failed to get out.

A tense minute or two stretched into hours in her mind, as she watched James and a few helpers take tools to the hinges to dismantle the door. A bigger crowd of spectators was gathering. She couldn’t bear to look into the lobby again.

First one side of the double doors gave way, then the other, bursting into the street like a cork from a bottle. People previously pinned to the doors flopped onto the cobbles, and there was a desperate rush to stop them from being trampled. Ada could see people fainting, some not moving at all, their lips blue and faces bruised. She yanked herself back inside, watching them pour outside away from the cloying smoke.

Al had already slunk down a few steps, and Ada followed him. The lobby was empty, but for the bodies strewn there. James was inside, sleeve over his mouth, coughing, pulling people out with the help of others. Despite the burning in her lungs, Ada stopped to help him. To her surprise, Al did too. Once all the bodies, moving and still, had been pulled into the street, Ada finally let herself collapse and give in to the cough that threatened to tear her apart. A hand touched her back, then someone was pressing water into her hands. She gulped it gratefully, shaking as shock began to set in. Al had slumped beside her, head in his hands.

James appeared and shook her shoulder.

‘Ada? Are you okay? Where’s Cam?’

She blinked up at him, rubbing ash from her eyes.

‘Cam? She wasn’t with us – she was backstage.’

‘Oh my god – I can’t leave her in there.’

Ada stared after him as he disappeared into the smoke, rooted to the spot by too many thoughts at once. It should be her rescuing Camille, not James. She was the one Camille loved, the one she trusted, not him. But she would never have thought to. That’s how it worked with Camille, with the battalion. You took responsibility for yourself, and you trusted the rest of the battalion to do the same. They all knew the plan. They knew what they were supposed to do. If they started making changes, it was dangerous. No one knew what James was doing now, where he was, where he was going. No one could help him. It was a risk, a huge one. An unnecessary one. Camille wouldn’t have come after her.

She won’t choose you.