As silently as she could, she wheeled Zanna through to her bedroom, and put her gently in the camp bed. Then she took the wheelbarrow back out, and deserted it on the walkway, where everyone would think it was someone else’s. Maybe it would even seep back to UnLondon.

Back in the flat, a light had come on in her little brother’s bedroom. Hass came out in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes. When he saw her, he stopped, and gawped at her stupidly for several seconds. Then he shivered, and blinked.

“Hello Deeba,” he said sleepily. He went into the bathroom and peed with the door open. “Why are you dressed?” he said on his way back to his bedroom. “I had a dream about spaghetti.” He turned his light off and got back into bed.

Deeba scratched her head and furrowed her brow. She sat up on her bed, stroked her unconscious friend’s forehead, and watched the clock.

“You can stop worrying, everyone,” she whispered, forlorn and confused. “I’m back.”