I send the message with trembling fingers and watch as Cecelia puts out her hand to shake Jonah’s.

‘I’m Cecelia. But you can just call me Spiderwoman.’

Jonah’s eyes widen. ‘Can I climb up the side, too?’

Cecelia stands up. ‘That, little man, is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say. Climb the side of a building? No way. Real heroes use the stairs – come on.’

The screen gets darker as she takes his hand and leads him down the stairs, and we hear him asking questions and her telling him to watch out for holes.

And then there’s another voice. A light shines into the camera and, behind it, a man in a bright firefighter suit shouts, ‘Are there any others?’

‘Nope,’ Cecelia says. ‘Just us. We’re both okay, aren’t we, pal?’

‘Are you a fireperson?’ Jonah asks.

They tumble down the steps and the light from outside illuminates a mangled door and a figure pulling away from the grip of a police officer and running through the door.

‘Jonah? Jonah!’

And I can’t see his face. But I’d know that voice anywhere.

My heart lurches as Rowan grabs hold of his brother and pulls him out of the building, frantically checking him for injuries, his phone still in his hand.

‘Are you okay? Are you okay? What were you – why would you – don’t ever do that again! Don’t ever –’ He holds on to him. Tight.

Teachers and firefighters and teenagers I vaguely recognize swarm round Cecelia, blocking my view.

‘You were so amazing.’

‘What’s your name again?’

I crane forward to see through the arms of people slapping her on the back and checking out her hands and arms. I spot the same smartly dressed woman Rowan met at school the first time we talked. With her are the police.

An officer taps him on the shoulder until he lets go of Jonah. She takes Jonah’s hand, says something to Rowan and almost seems to gently push him away.

He turns towards us for a moment and I can see his expression. And it’s as if the world has drained around him. He glances at Jonah. He rubs his face. And he runs.

You have disconnected from this stream.

67

Alice

Mum and Dad are talking, so, for a moment, they don’t notice me muster all the spoons I have and lift myself out of bed.

My blood fizzes and erupts and I can almost see the droplets like dark shadows in my eyes. I lunge for the wall.

‘Alice!’ Mum says, leaping up to hold me. ‘What are you –’

‘Rowan,’ I say. ‘Rowan needs me. I need to go and find –’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she says, pushing me back towards the bed.

I try to fight her, but I can’t. Sitting down again feels like coming up for air, but my thoughts are still drowning.