It was as she was crouching down, ready to climb out, that she saw it. Callie’s mobile phone in the centre console. For some reason, she automatically reached for it. It was silly, possessions were the last thing on her mind, but that phone was Callie’s whole world. As she tried to grab it, she realised it was stuck, jammed in place by part of the console that had been bent out of shape. She pulled it free and heard a tiny click. It was the car’s cigarette lighter. It had obviously been held in place by the phone jammed up against it. It had been heating up this whole time and once she’d moved the phone, it had popped out.

Then she heard the words Callie had said. I could smell something in there . . . petrol.

A strange sensation came over her. It was as though a thin layer of ice had coated her body from her head to her toes. Her limbs switched to autopilot. She watched her hand reach for the cigarette lighter and take it out. Check to see it was still glowing red. Hot. She looked around for the source of the smell. There, down low . . . liquid dripping into the car from under the bonnet. She didn’t stop to think. She crouched down and placed the lighter near the growing puddle. Perhaps the heat would be gone by the time it touched the petrol. Maybe without a spark, it wouldn’t even ignite. She couldn’t be sure. But she left it there anyway.

She crawled back through the windscreen.

Then she walked away from the car and didn’t look back.

Acknowledgements

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS