“I’m fine.” I shifted, uncomfortable beneath his frantic regard. He reached up and caught my face, turning my cheek. “You’re covered in bruises. Was it a car?” His voice cracked. Then he looked at his own fingers. “What is this? Soot?”

“I fell over, on the tube.”

The wall clock ticked as Dad inhaled. “On the tube?” He gripped my arm. “You’re black.”

I swallowed. “I-I fell off the platform. It was so crowded.”

“Oh my God.” Dad’s face blanched, his cheeks so white it looked as if he was going to faint.

“Dad, breathe. I’m alright.”

With one hand he dragged me backwards into the kitchen. My feet squelched through tea-drenched carpet. Once at the table he forced me under the low-hanging light.

“This needs Dettol.” He stroked my cheek then forced me to sit.

His hands trembled as he washed my face with kitchen towel and gently applied the antiseptic to my grazed skin. I winced, but remained quiet.

Finally he spoke. “You were almost hit by a train.”

“No, honestly. I was pulled straight back up. A friend helped me.”

“Hannah was there?” Dad froze.

“Not Hannah, someone else.”

He pressed his lips together and wiped at my neck. I felt the pressure of his eyes on my gloved hand. “Were you... doing your usual thing?”

I forced a grin that felt more like a grimace. “Actually, I’ve joined a sort of youth group. I was with some of them.”

“A youth group?” Dad pulled back and his face lit up like my bedroom. My heart hurt a little at how much that cheered him.

“It’s some of the guys from school.”

“Hannah and Pete.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dad, Pete and I haven’t been friends for ages.”

Dad dragged his fingers through my tangled hair. “I liked him.”

“Well, he wasn’t happy with our friendship the way it was. And Hannah… she’s not talking to me at the moment.”

“Oh.” Dad’s face fell as if I’d slammed the lights off. “I’m sorry.” He patted my hair and dropped his hand. “So, who’s in this group?”

“You know, people from my class, some from the years below.”

“A youth group.” Dad rolled the words around his tongue as if testing them out.

“We meet in a church.”

“In a church?” This time Dad’s eyebrows shot upwards and I knew he thought V was a religious thing. I didn’t disabuse him.

He cleared his throat. “Taylor, is this something to do with the boy in your class who died? With Justin.”

I caught my breath. “You heard that they found him?”

“I’m in a chair, not an isolation ward.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“If you’re looking for answers, you and the rest of your class, I suppose a church isn’t the worst place to look.” He rubbed his stubbled chin and I said nothing. “You know you can come and talk to me if you want to.” He tugged the arms of my chair until our knees touched. “You’ve had to deal with too much death already. If there’s some way I can help...”

I shook my head. “I’m OK, Dad.” I glanced at the door. Justin had drifted to the open jamb and was leaning against the frame. “I know Justin’s still with us.”

Dad closed his eyes. “I wish I had your faith.” He pushed back. “Go and get properly cleaned up. I’ve got a heart attack to recover from and a complaint to write to the Transport Authority.”

“Don’t do that, Dad.”

I stood up and he moved his chair so I could get past, at the last moment he caught my arm. “Taylor, I don’t like you going out after school like this, but I won’t take away your chance to make new friends. You just have to be more careful. You know how to travel in London. Be more aware of the world around you, will you?”

I nodded. “This won’t happen again.” I gestured at myself and he sighed.

“You look so much like your mum these days.” He half turned away. “Don’t let what happened to her, happen to you.”

Justin followed me to my room. “Your Dad was pretty spooked.”

I winced at my reflection. “He had good reason to be.” I peeled off my glove and held it for a long minute. It was wrecked and should go in the bin. But it had been Mum’s. I dropped it in the laundry.

“So I’m in the club.” I touched the Mark on my hand. “But I’m running out of time. The next meeting isn’t for three days. I don’t get to set the challenge till I complete another dare and I can’t do that until I’m chosen by some wheel. What are the chances of that?” I clenched my fists.

Justin nodded. “I think I can help.”

“You can?” I raised my eyebrows, then I realised who, or rather what, I was talking to. “Of course. So I do another dare.” I ignored my sinking heart. “Then I get to ask for a truth.”

Justin looked at my blackened hand. “There’s one more problem, Tay. Once you complete the dare, you don’t get to be challenger for another week.”

I inhaled, desperately clinging to my calm. “Ten days, I’m not sure I’ve got that long.” I slumped onto my stool in front of my picture board. “Maybe James will bend the rules again.”

“We’ll think of something.” Justin’s hand fell on my shoulder and I jumped. “You need a shower.”

I fingered my bruised head with a wince. He was used to looking at his perfectly groomed girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. “Right. I look like hell.”

I turned the nozzle onto massage and let the water hammer at my sore muscles until they ached. Then I lathered my hair up, rinsed and did the whole thing again, until the water ran clear instead of grey.

The room was lit with four halogen bulbs, there was a towel warming on the rail and there was plenty of hot water. I didn’t want to get out. So I stayed, leaning my head against the glass door and watching the shower gel foam around the plug.

When the water started to run cool, I stepped out and wrapped myself in the towel. Then I dragged a comb through my hair, brushed my teeth and pulled on some flannel pyjamas.

The thought stuttered through my head: Not exactly sexy.

I bit down on it as I ran through the dimly lit hallway. Who cared about that anyway?

I was surrounded by a fog so dense I literally couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.

“Justin?” I spun around, seeing nothing. No sound penetrated the whiteness; I seemed to be all alone.

Experimentally I stepped forward. I could feel the ground beneath my bare toes. It was cool, but not cold, hard, but not uncomfortably so. Was I on a road, a path?

Wait a minute… why were my feet bare?

I squinted down at myself and pinched my top between my fingers. Why was I wearing pyjamas? Had I come outside?

I tried to remember. Had I head a noise or something, maybe left the house?

“Justin?” I tried his name again, but there was no reply.

I took a breath and the air in my lungs felt oddly dense. “Dad?”

If I was on the street, surely I could find my house. I kept turning in a circle, hoping to see something to guide me home. There was nothing but endless whiteness. No glowing streetlamps, no outlines of cars. My toes didn’t bump into a kerb.

My neck prickled. “Who’s there?”

No answer.

“I know there’s someone out there I can feel you watching me.”

My heart thudded and without thinking about it, I broke into a run. I didn’t consider what I might crash into in the weird whiteness, just that I had to escape the intense presence. Some primal instinct told me it was a predator and I was prey. So I ran, hands out in front of me, breath stirring the air until it swirled like smoke but revealed nothing.

“Taylor, can you hear me?”

At first the voice was so quiet I thought I was imagining it. The tones only tickled my ears, making me turn in search of it. Now at least I had a goal. I would run towards the voice.