Will thinks about the day of the burning library, how his prior knowledge brought him and April together. And he thinks about the afternoon in Alfie’s car, when Will ran from the police, when – of course, it seems so obvious now – he saved Alfie’s skin and they became friends. He thinks about saving Danny from being stabbed, and the girl at the party. Disasters averted. Will getting a step closer each time to becoming the person he needed to be, ever more confident that he could change the path of time.

Are you a hero if no one knows what you did? Will wonders.

Not one for playing the hero, are you?

You gotta act a bit braver than that when you’ve got an audience.

There’s been no audience, no one to play to. No show has gone down here.

Yet a person has been saved. What would Mick Touch make of that? Will briefly wonders.

Are you a hero if nobody knows?

A tear trickles down Will’s face, its wet track immediately icy in the cool morning.

I guess it’s over now, he thinks.

Alfie is saved. The version of Alfie who’s followed Will and instructed him must be gone. Or merged, perhaps, reunited with the Alfie who survives. A new Alfie.

It strikes him now for the first time: he’s a new person, too. He has a best friend. He knows how to have fun. He still hangs on to the hope that he might make things good with April. He is almost unrecognizable, and happy to be so.

It’s over, he says to himself.

There is a nagging doubt somewhere in his gut, a sense that this is too simple somehow. Will shoves the thought aside, dismissing it as a desire to continue that dangerous thrill of being wrapped up in the unknown.

It’s over, he tells himself, more firmly this time.

Order to chaos. He’d been so sure of this theory. It’s the rule of the universe, right?

And yet, has he not disproved it several times over? Saving Danny, helping the girl at the party, facilitating Alfie’s rescue. Scenarios destined for chaos. Yet Will’s actions have created order. They’ve created life, potential.

Is order really destined to become chaos? Or are such rules, Will muses, in fact, open to debate?

He wanders across the marsh towards the road, busy with morning rush-hour traffic now. He’s been up all night but he’s not tired. Not that he much fancies heading into school. Instead, he decides to take a walk to Patten’s Island. He should be in time to have a breakfast cuppa with Nain. Might even wangle a bacon sandwich.