He looked guilty when he saw me. His face flushed right up to the line of bandage. He slid the phone under his pillow. In my pocket, my own phone rumbled silently.

He’d been sending me a text. He needed me.

I gazed around the ward. Caleb’s sketchbook was open on his bed, as though the police officers had come to discuss his graphic art. I rested my hand on the book. ‘What are you doing here?’

I heard footsteps. Detective Feng entered, followed by Dr Selena Branham. She frowned. ‘What is this?’ she asked.

‘Is Caleb well enough for questioning?’ I demanded.

‘Police interview, ma’am,’ an officer said. ‘We’re here investigating yesterday’s fire.’

‘This can’t happen,’ I insisted.

Caleb ran his hand over his eyes. ‘Mum, I’m just talking.’

‘I suppose it’s okay,’ Selena said. ‘If he doesn’t get upset.’

The police officers turned their attention back to Caleb.

‘There was something you said to Penelope,’ the older of them said. ‘Her friend reported it to us. Do you remember what it was?’

Caleb shook his head.

‘I’ll take over from here,’ Detective Feng said. ‘Let me help you, Caleb. You said you would, and I quote, do something about her parents?’

I stepped in, horrified. Caleb had said that? What could he have meant?

‘You can’t ask him any questions,’ I insisted. ‘This is a hospital. Caleb is injured. He has concussion.’ I stared at Jack. Why didn’t he do something? He lifted his hands – which previously seemed so capable – and shrugged. As out of depth and bewildered as me.

‘Ah yes.’ Detective Feng nodded at Caleb’s hands. ‘Injuries sustained yesterday. Though there’s no report of how they were sustained in his CFA records.’

There was no denying the bandages. ‘What records?’ I demanded.

Detective Feng ignored me. His gaze didn’t flicker from Caleb. ‘The Gordons weren’t very keen on you being involved with their daughter. You said you’d look after them,’ he repeated. ‘What did you mean by that?’

I recognised the expression on Caleb’s face. He’d hated that the Gordons called him a bad influence on Penelope. Selena stepped forwards, her own hands clenched. Detective Feng picked up Caleb’s sketchbook, flicking through the pages.

‘He meant look after them, as in make sure they’re okay,’ I insisted, because of course that was what he must have meant. Feng looked sceptical. If they’d already decided on arson, Caleb seeking vengeance must have real appeal to him as a motive.

Caleb’s eyes were fierce and protective, watching his sketchbook. His hands clenched and unclenched; it took all his willpower to not seize the book back. Detective Feng reached a page showing Penelope, her hair yellow and pink and obvious, soaring from a nest of flame. ‘Tell me about this picture.’

‘It’s Penelope Gordon.’

‘And the fire?’

‘I was drawing her as a phoenix.’

‘A phoenix?’

‘I’ve also drawn her as a mermaid. She’s never been in a flood.’ Caleb looked at me. ‘Do you like my phoenix? Gold neck, purple body, blue and pink tail. I took the description from Pliny.’