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and took him away.
    I blink back tears as I run. Focus: on feet on path, on the night, on staying upright. Ben’s mum deserves the truth.
    My dark thoughts and the run have taken too much concentration. Their house is close now, but something isn’t right. The air tastes wrong. A little, at first; then more.
    Smoke?
    It gets stronger, and I slow to a jog, then a walk.
    Very strong, now: the air is thick and hazy, cutting the moonlight. My eyes are stinging and it is only the will to stay silent that keeps me from coughing.
    Caution. Go slow and silent.
    Ben’s road is visible now, dim houses beyond fences and hedges on one side of the canal path. Over one of them, smoke rises lazily, twists on the wind. It is an unreal silver and red, lit by moon above and red glow below. Though it is not a house any longer; now I’m closer, I can see the absolute devastation. The remains of a house. A total ruin.
    It isn’t Ben’s; it can’t be. I scan those either side from behind. None of them look like his, with the workshop on the side where his mum made her metal sculptures. It must be this one.
    The wind shifts, and I pull my shirt over my face to breathe through, choking in the air, unable to hold back coughing any longer. There are no firefighters, nobody in sight. Whatever happened is mostly over; there is just a ruin, glowing ash. Smoke. How…?
    Stay back. Get back. There will be watchers.
    Is it really Ben’s house? Could it be? What has happened?
    Leave. There is nothing to be done here.
    Nothing to be done. Anyone who was in that house…
    And I stare at the ruins. The houses around, untouched; this one, completely destroyed. No chance for anyone inside. None.
    Were they in there? Ben’s parents? Horror fills me. I never met his dad, but his mum was so full of life, of her art. Now so full of pain about Ben.
    Not any more.
    Get out of here.
    And the urgency and fear bite in. My feet start reversing, slow up the canal path, hugging the trees on the side of it. There will be wakeful eyes on this street tonight.
    I pause. The path rises a little now; I can look back and see more.
    Get out of sight!
    If I can see down, eyes can see up. I slip into shadows of trees.
    Every instinct is shouting run, hide, but I can’t not look. I can’t take my eyes off this smoking ruin. Were they in there? Burned to death? I shudder. I can’t take this in, I can’t…
    Hands grab my shoulders from behind.

CHAPTER EIGHT
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    I slam my left elbow back into flesh, which gasps and sags into a tree. I spin around, kick with my right foot, right fist ready to crack skull against tree, and…
    My hand drops.
    A girl is bent double, gasping and clutching her stomach, long dark hair cascading down. Barely visible in this light, yet I know that hair. Don’t I?
    ‘Tori?’
    She looks up. Familiar flawless features, beautiful eyes. Yet not the same. Hollow. Choked with tears.
    ‘Tori?’ I say again. She half nods and slumps to the ground. ‘What are you doing here? How…?’
    She shakes her head, unable to talk, and I can’t take this in. How is Tori here? How is she anywhere . She was returned to the Lorders. Tori was Ben’s friend: Slated, like us. I barely knew her, but she was his girlfriend before I was, I’m sure of it. Though he said he never kissed her, I never totally believed him. How could he resist Tori? But she was taken by Lorders: nobody comes back from them.
    ‘Bitch,’ she finally manages to cough out. ‘Why’d you do that?’
    ‘I didn’t know it was you,’ I whisper. ‘Keep your voice down. How did you…’ I start to say but my voice trails away. I don’t know what question to ask first.
    ‘I escaped, and I came to see Ben. But he…’ Her voice breaks, tears start down her cheeks.
    Get away from here! It isn’t safe .
    ‘Tori, we’ve got to move. We can’t stay here. We’ll get caught.’
    ‘What does it matter now? Without Ben, I…’ And she shakes her head. ‘They’re all dead. They wouldn’t