After nearly crying in the middle of Japanese, I skip PE completely. I’ve never been able to leave a scab alone so it makes sense that I have to see for myself that my photo isn’t there anymore.

The corridors are empty, but when I pass the Great Hall I see Natalia already standing in front of the space where Someone’s Watching used to be.

‘You’re quick,’ I say.

I wonder how much longer it’s going to take before it’s the talk of the year level. Or maybe I’m flattering myself that anyone beyond us will care.

‘I have eyes everywhere.’ If I thought she’d hug me in commiseration, I’m wrong. Natalia is preternaturally still.

We contemplate the bare wall. Who would have thought that white space could say so much.

‘Where is it?’ she asks.

‘I don’t know.’ This surprises me. I don’t think it was in Ms Nouri’s office. It’s big enough that I would have noticed. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

‘Tell me exactly what Nouri said to you.’

I swallow over the nervous lump in my throat and try to remember the whole blurry awful conversation.

‘She said someone put in an official complaint about our photo, uh, they were distraught, and Mrs Christie made the decision to take it out of the exhibition. I got the impression that Nouri might not agree but was forced to go along with it.’

‘Distraught?’ Natalia’s voice is steely. ‘What a joke. Who do they think is distraught?’

A great weariness takes over me. My limbs are heavy, my head heavier still. I think about Sunita and Bridie and all their talk about dead bodies and blood, and I can’t figure out anymore if I’ve done something wrong. Was it too much? Was it the wrong message?

Natalia’s phone chimes. She checks it, puts it away.

‘Okay, we need to go.’

‘Where?’

‘Right now.’

Her fingers close around my wrist and she walks me, fast, towards the closest door that leads outside.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Shush. Thinking.’

‘Who was that?’

Natalia doesn’t answer, but it soon becomes obvious as we round the outside of the tuckshop and cross the small lawn to the portable that serves as the Year Ten common room. There are so many reasons not to go to the common room—it’s cold, the carpet smells, it’s cliquey—that I can barely remember what it looks like inside.

Marley lounges on the steps, Ally is doing some sort of risky parkour move, standing on the handrail and clutching the windowsill.

‘She’s in there.’ She jumps down.

Natalia storms up the stairs, checking to see I’m with her. And something very obvious becomes clear to me.