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Looks like WhiteInc has been helping the police out in more ways than one. With the lightest of touches he brings the screen to life. A grainy image appears. It’s a crowd of people, holding placards and chanting. Lee taps the screen and the picture zooms in. I recognise some of people: Ryan, Karl, Kiara, me. It’s footage of the protest earlier filmed from a high vantage point. A drone or a satellite, I’m not sure.  
    Hooded figures press through the crowds. Where their faces should be are grey smudges, like someone has wiped a thumb over the screen. Now I understand what their silver scarves were for: anti-surveillance.  
    ‘Those are the guys you should be arresting. Not me,’ I say.  
    Detective Lee smiles and the volume on the tab goes up.  
    A distorted voice plays out of the tiny speakers.  
    ‘ Yeah, let’s all throw stuff. That’s how you bring about change. That’s how you stick it to the man! ’
    I barely recognise my own voice. The screen pauses as the image of me goes to throw something into the crowd. I have one hand stretched out in front of me, the other poised to release my missile. I look like that Banksy painting in the Tate.  
    ‘Do you know what the punishments are for inciting violence?’
    I laugh, leaning back in my chair. This has to be some sort of test or something. He can’t be serious. I look at his face. He looks very, very serious.  
    ‘I wasn’t inciting anything. I was being sarcastic!’ I say, leaning forward.  
    ‘It didn’t sound sarcastic. And straight after you incited the crowd, this happened.’
    The image plays again as the boys in black start hurling bottles down into the crowd and everyone starts screaming.  
    ‘No, you’ve edited that. That’s not what happened. I didn’t tell them to start.’
    ‘Well, Miss Quinn, that’s certainly how it looks. So tell me, what do you know about these anarchists?’
    ‘The kids in the masks? I have no idea.’
    ‘They are members of the NF. What can you tell me about your involvement with them?’
      Zizi’s intake of breath when he says those two letters scares me more than anything so far.  
    ‘Zizi, this is crap, you can see that, can’t you? I don’t even know who or what the NF are!’  
    Her face is paler than usual as she watches the riot play out on the small screen. ‘Oh, Petri, didn’t I tell you that violence is never the answer.’
    ‘Petri’s had issues with violence in the past?’ Lee says.  
    ‘What? Hang on, no.’
    ‘Ah yes, I see. Three reports of fighting at school.’
    ‘That’s private information, you can’t use that!’ I shout, waving my hand in front of his face disrupt his feed. It makes no difference.  
    ‘All state schools operate an information sharing policy. I have all your files here, Petri. And it doesn’t look good.’
    ‘I told you I should have gone to a private school,’ I snap, staring at Zizi. ‘But, oh, no, you wanted me to get a real education! In the real world.’ I make ironic air quotes around the word ‘real’. I never wanted to go to a private school either. But I’m choosing to ignore that right now.  
      ‘You can’t make this about me?’ Zizi says, holding her hand to her heart, all Hollywood diva.  
    ‘Why not? You’ve made everything else in my life about you!’
    Lee interrupts before things get too out of hand. ‘My superiors want me to press charges.’  
    ‘Surely that won’t be necessary,’ Zizi says, all sweet and smooth—the voice I’ve heard her use with her fellow directors, right before she starts screaming. ‘My daughter isn’t a danger to society. She got carried away in the heat of the moment.’
    ‘I didn’t get carried away in the heat of anything!’ I say. ‘It was a joke! A joke! Why can’t you see that?’
    The image has zoomed in even further and the clip plays on loop. My face is bright red and spittle sprays out of my mouth. I look like a crazy person.  
    I drop my face into my hands and let