‘I can’t believe this. Who managed to get all the old pupils involved so quickly?’

‘It was the video,’ Henry said. ‘You must have known?’

‘Known what? I haven’t seen the video. All the students were blocking the screens.’

I was beyond grateful that Adam had agreed to record a song for the campaign. He’d written one for his graduation, eight years ago, expressing what Charis House had meant to him, and how it’d helped him to believe in himself. I’d asked if he’d have time to record a version that we could then overlay with images of the house and some of the students from the twenty-seven years it had been open.

‘Take a look. You need to start sharing it on your feeds.’

‘Where’s Adam?’

‘You’re more likely to know that than me.’

I hung up and did a quick online search for the song, ‘Outside the Box’. It wasn’t hard to find. As the last notes faded away, I began hurrying down the hall, sure that he’d be somewhere around his old hangout.

‘Hey!’ Adam’s face lit up when he saw me in the entrance to the music room – the upgraded, high-tech one this time, full of wires and buttons and other scarily expensive equipment. ‘Well done! Your interview rocked.’

The gaggle of young people clustered around the main screen chimed their agreement.

‘What’s this?’ I held out my phone, ignoring them. The interview was nothing compared to the three minutes I’d just watched.

‘You don’t like it?’ an older girl blurted.

‘Are you serious?’ I couldn’t help it, I burst into tears. ‘Adam, this is… it’s… how did you…? Thank you,’ I sobbed, standing there holding my phone out like a total chump. ‘It’s the best video I’ve ever seen. How on earth did you manage this in twenty-four hours?’

‘Well.’ Adam tried to be cool, but he looked like a little boy about to explode with pride. ‘These guys helped. And the rest of them.’

The rest of them being students and alumni, all of whom had contributed a line to the song, often in groups, either appearing together or on a number of different screens that Adam had somehow synced together in between images of school life. Every person also held up a sign that stated their job title, or a more profound accomplishment such as, ‘despair to hope’, ‘no longer lost’, or ‘from trash to treasure’.

The final chorus ended with what must have been a hundred tiny screens, no instruments, just the voices of those who meant every word they were singing.

It was perfect.

Glorious.

I hardly dared to believe it, but I thought Adam might have saved Charis House.