She turns away fast but not before I see a flash of hurt in her eyes. I never used to read how she was feeling before the fire, but now I get it. I want to take back what I said, rewind the moment, so I say, ‘But I wished for rollerblades once, and you found some in the op shop that very day.’

It takes a moment for her to swing back. ‘Actually, I found them in the toy shop.’

‘Mum! You lied to me!’

She laughs. ‘I didn’t think it was a bad lie. And you were so desperate for them!’

‘I really was. But then I went down that hill, remember?’

‘And you ripped the knees out of your favourite jeans.’

‘You patched them up with red velvet squares …’ I say.

‘Didn’t Bridget pretend her jeans were ripped, too, so she could have matching ones?’

I laugh at the memory and remember the Polaroid photo of us with our red velvet knees. Mum had taken it, and Bridge and I had jumped around while waiting for it to develop. And then I realise that photo is gone. Burnt with the rest.

‘See you later, Mum,’ I say, tossing my broken wishbone down next to hers. I don’t wait for her to say goodbye.

Outside I start texting my friends, hoping one of them will respond quickly. I look up at the flat, wondering what Mum’s doing, wondering how she’d feel if she looked out the window and saw me staring back.

‘Hey,’ shouts a voice from behind, making me jump.

I turn around to see Matt sauntering towards me, his hair hanging across his face even more than it did yesterday. He smiles and says, ‘Thought you could show me around.’

‘Now?’

‘Why not?’

‘I can’t. I’m busy.’

‘Busy? Doing what, exactly?’ he says with that edgy sarcasm that makes me want to scream at him.

I tense my jaw. ‘Busy not having to show you around!’

Seemingly surprised by my response, he raises an eyebrow. ‘Was I being rude again?’

‘Yeah. Aren’t you always?’

He shifts on his feet and I notice a hole in the front of his sneaker. He doesn’t have socks on so his little toe is peeping out. I wonder how he can stand wearing shoes with no socks.

‘I don’t mean to be rude. This place seems to bring it out of me.’

‘Don’t think you can blame the place.’

He laughs. ‘You’re right. It’s just me. I’m sorry.’

‘Okay. I’ve got an hour. That’s it.’ I sound so much tougher than I feel. My kneecap has started to itch like it needs me to move as fast as possible away from him.

‘Okay, um, thanks.’