. I . . Someone said, ‘Falconhurst!’ and I jerked out of a sweltering half-doze, reached hurriedly for my suitcase and staggered out of the train on to the station platform. I heard someone grumble and the door slam behind me...
His eyes hurt. Daed put his arm around his shoulder and helped him to walk. It was like he’d been ill: everything was a little bit unreal, a little bit painful. He didn’t want to think about the cell, and the chair, and the stuff on his skin that paralysed him; but that was OK, because he couldn’...
. Four Michael knew he should get up and unlock the door. He should pick up his bag and go to History, down the corridor and across the court where the flower beds were. It was Thompson’s Third Law: don’t bunk lessons, because someone will notice. Do everything you’re told...