But then it became completely stupid and completely fun. We didn’t know any of the words to the songs but it didn’t matter. The lights bounced from his face to mine, and his tie became looser, and I thought of how, if Gerry could see us, she would shout, ‘Oh, finding joy in the darkness! That’s what life is all about!’ My cynicism leaped from me in the form of sweat and belly-laughter and shrieks that came from deep in my throat – Leo spun me and twirled me and the cringey DJ was about thirty-two, we said, what was he doing at a high school? He kept playing these bad songs and we just laughed and laughed and laughed, fast-danced to the fast songs and slow-danced to the slow ones, and Leo was so much taller than me that my arms couldn’t wrap round him so my hands just sort of sat round his neck, as though I was very half-heartedly attempting to strangle him, and we laughed at that too.

And that was the world, for a bit. A world without June, without Dad, without death. Leo felt like the most important and wonderful thing.

This was the one time I’d felt like maybe Dad would’ve looked at me from above and thought, Oh, thank God, she’s not a total wreck.

In a blink it was over. They played the last song and the lights went up and now it was bright enough to see what we’d done, bright enough to see the layer of sweat glistening on Leo’s forehead, and, he told me, the melted mascara underneath my eyes.

Everyone began to file out, laughing and talking loudly; I imagined their heads were still floating around near the ceiling. Leo and I hung back, waiting for people to leave first so we wouldn’t have to squeeze through the too-small double doors. My cheeks hurt from smiling, my calves from jumping, and my head from the unexpected assurance that maybe, maybe, everything, someday, was going to be OK.

That was when my phone buzzed.

My blood ran cold.

Leo noticed my face had changed, but I did my best to blink my expression away. ‘Could you do me a favour and grab our coats?’

‘Yeah. What’s …?’

I couldn’t show him. It’d ruin the night. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. ‘Please?’ I practically begged, one moment away from kneeling and clasping my hands together: Please, don’t look.

He nodded and shuffled away, but now, alone, I felt overwhelmingly as though I was being watched, and found a quiet spot behind the bleachers.

The texts wouldn’t stop. Buzz. Buzz.

What had happened? Were they here? At my house? My mind spun, trying to keep up with my fears, trying to conceive of every possible worst-case scenario, trying to figure out what to do –

A tap on my shoulder.