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Because it was so tall, the simple tower was designed to sway in the wind. On the roof Ava could feel it, as though she were on a boat. She hugged herself against the chill. The sky had drained of color and the wind bit at her face.
Mat was sitting in a Husky Camping Chair, facing away from her. She knew it was him from his hair, which blew violently in unpredictable directions.
‘Mat,’ she said.
He stood quickly and turned to face her, hugging himself for warmth; he wore only a denim jacket over his crisp white T-shirt. He’d wrapped his hand up in his scarf and held it close to his chest. It was bleeding. ‘Ava,’ he said, ‘you should go back inside.’
‘What happened to you?’ Ava said, rushing toward him.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said, but Ava noticed the broken pane of glass on the south
