As they all screamed at him, Oliver knew there was only one place he could escape to. His dreamworld, the place in his imagination.

He squeezed his eyes shut and muted out their voices.

Then suddenly he was there, at the factory. Not the cobwebby one hed visited earlier, but a clean version, where all the machines gleamed and glistened under bright lights.

Oliver stood there gawking at the factory in all its former glory. But just like in real life, there was no Armando there to greet him. No ally. No friend. Even in his imagination, he was completely alone.

*

Only once everyone had gone to bed and the house was in complete darkness did Oliver feel able to work on fixing his inventions. He wanted to be optimistic as he fiddled with all the pieces, trying to get them to fit back together. But it was useless. The whole thing had been destroyed. All his coils and wires were damaged beyond hope. Hed have to start all over again.

He threw the pieces into his suitcase and slammed it shut. With both the locks now broken, the lid bounced up before falling back again and standing ajar. Oliver sighed heavily and slumped back against his mattress. He pulled the blanket all the way up over his head.

It must only have been from sheer exhaustion that Oliver was even able to fall asleep that night. But sleep he did. And as he drifted off into his dreams, Oliver found himself standing at the window looking out at the spindly tree across the road. There stood the man and woman hed seen just last night, holding hands.

Oliver banged on the window.

Who are you? he cried.

The woman smiled knowingly. Her smile was kind; nicer, even, than Ms. Belfrys.

But neither of them spoke. They just stared at him, smiling.

Oliver heaved the window open. Who are you? he shouted again, but this time his voice was drowned out by the wind.

The man and woman just stood there, mute, their hands clasped, their smiles warm and inviting.

Oliver began to crawl through the window. But as he did, the figures flickered and juddered, as if they were holograms and the lightbulbs were flickering out. They were starting to disappear.

Wait! he cried. Dont go!

He fell through the window and hurried across the street. They faded more and more with every step he took.

As he drew up ahead of them, they were barely visible. He reached forward for the womans hand, but his went straight through hers, like she was a ghost.

Please tell me who you are! he pleaded.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out by the roaring wind. Oliver grew desperate.

Who are you? he asked again, shouting to be heard over the wind. Why are you watching me?