He found Jane where he’d left her, sitting picking at some breakfast, her bronze hair hanging free from its usual tie. She glanced over at him with a mixture of relief and concern when he moved silently into the seat beside her.

“Funeral’s on Thursday,” she told him without any prompting. A single glance at the stage told Matt that Winters’ speech was over. Good. “They’re going to have the service here and then…” She trailed off, her head cocked slightly to the side as she saw Matt wasn’t listening.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Matt didn’t reply but merely shook his head, distracted. He stared straight ahead, one finger on his temple, the other on his lip, his brows furrowed, his mind churning. Jane hesitated.

“You ok?” she asked, but Matt just nodded without sparing her a glance. A few seconds passed, the only sound between them the undulating murmur of the crowded Hall.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Matt said finally. He dropped his hand from his face and turned to meet Jane’s eyes.

“Think what’s weird?” she replied.

“Ed. That he’d just…” the words caught on Matt’s tongue, and he swallowed before forcing them out, “…I don’t know. Up and kill himself.”

Jane blinked, slightly taken aback. “I don’t know,” she admitted, after a moment’s hesitation, “I mean, it’s the worst, but it happens. And it sucks, but-”

“No note,” Matt interrupted. He kept his voice deliberately low and steady, so as not to attract attention, but the intensity of his gaze never wavered. “No goodbye. No nothing. All over one girl. That doesn’t strike you as strange?”

“Matt…” Jane’s voice was hesitant and Matt could see the pity forming in her face. She thinks this is grief, he realised – she thinks I’m trying to find an excuse. To her credit though, Jane didn’t let her reluctance to hurt his feelings keep her from speaking her mind. “He clearly wasn’t in a good place. He was a genius, and you know how they…”

“What? How they what?”

“Well… you know… how they’re like. They get all wrapped up in their own thoughts and…” she tactfully paused, “…well, it takes its toll.” It was the closest she’d ever come to sounding sympathetic. But Matt shook his head, brushing away the suggestion like it was a fly.

“He messaged me,” Matt persisted. He glanced subtly at the many Acolytes around them, making sure no one was eavesdropping. “Early this morning. Must’ve been just before- before it happened.”

“What?” Jane frowned. “What’d it say?”

Matt opened his mouth to tell her, but paused as one of the Ashes – a fair-skinned weather controller – walked behind them. He waited until they’d passed then continued, keeping the inflection in his voice deliberately low and casual: “Dawn.”

“Dawn what?”

“Nothing,” said Matt. “Just one word. ‘Dawn’.”

Jane’s mouth twisted into an expression of confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“Exactly.”

“No, I mean, why? What does that mean?”

“That’s my point, I don’t know,” Matt replied. He shook his head, “But don’t you think that’s weird?” He leant in closer, focused, staring at her. “Ed could’ve written anything. Why would he send that? It’s not like he was in a rush, he had the whole rest of his life to go and off himself.”

“Well,” shrugged Jane, infuriating, “He was a genius, who knows what-?”

“Right,” interjected Matt with some frustration, “He was a genius, and he knew me, which means he would’ve known I’d have no idea what this meant.”

“It’s not one of your- I don’t know, did you guys have like secret gaming codes?”

“No,” Matt replied irritably, “Because we're not six.”

“Alright,” Jane scowled defensively, holding up her hands, “Just a thought.” She hesitated. “What are you getting at?”

“I don’t know,” answered Matt, which was only half-true. He paused, and for a few moments, they just looked at each other. Suddenly, what he was implying sunk in. Jane’s eyes widened and instinctively she recoiled.

“You’re not saying he was-”

“It doesn’t strike you as odd that-?”

“Come on, you can’t seriously think-”

“I don’t know what I think,” cut off Matt, “But something doesn’t feel right.” He unconsciously glanced down at the phone in his pocket. “If Ed was going to kill himself, this isn’t what he’d do. He wouldn’t just abandon all his work. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. And his last act on this Earth wouldn’t be sending some stupid cryptic text.”

“Yeah,” said Jane, “But that doesn’t mean he was-”

“Think about it,” hissed Matt, leaning in closer, “What if Ed was in danger? What if he was, I don’t know, attacked or something, and the only thing he had time to do is send out a single message telling everyone who attacked him and-”

Instantly, Matt knew he’d made a mistake. Jane’s face hardened and her eyes narrowed.

“If you’re even suggesting Captain Dawn -” she began, her voice and the indignation in it both rising.

“No, shh!” hushed Matt, waving under the table at her to keep quiet. His eyes darted around the room. The noise of the Hall meant that it was unlikely anyone would be able to casually listen on their conversation but only so long as Jane didn’t start shouting. “Not so loud!” Jane glowered at him, eyes ablaze.

“Captain Dawn would never-” she hissed.

“I’m not saying that, I’m not saying that!” Matt hissed back, waving her down. Privately, he cursed himself for being so stupid as to ever imply any wrongdoing by Jane’s superhero crush. “Maybe he meant ‘Go get Dawn for help’. Or ‘Dawn is in danger, look out’.”

“In danger, in danger from what?” Jane scoffed.

“I don’t know!” Matt despaired through gritted teeth, “Whatever was after him, whoever threw him off the roof!”

Jane leant back, her arms folded across her chest, her face hard and sceptical. Matt took the fact she wasn’t arguing as a sign she was considering what he was saying, and that he should continue.

“As a final word, it makes no sense,” he insisted, pleading at her with his eyes, “But as a message, a warning…” He let the sentence trail off, the idea hanging. Jane chewed her lip.

“What time did you get it?” she finally asked.

“The message?”

“Yeah.”

“Five to four. Says it right there on the thing.”

“And you just, what, forgot?”

“I was asleep,” Matt snapped.

“Passed out more like,” Jane countered. But she didn’t say it with much venom, instead seeming distracted, her eyes wandering off into space. Matt pressed on.

“Did Winters say what time it happened?” he asked, shooting a furtive glance up at the stage and the now empty lectern.

“No,” she replied, “But I heard around four.” She absent-mindedly picked up a butter knife from the table and began twirling it between her fingers. They lapsed into silence.

“I don’t know,” Jane admitted eventually, “None of the cops have said anything. Nothing about this looks like foul play. All you’ve got is one weird message.” She paused and turned to look at him. “You don’t want to believe that your friend could do something like this, I get that, I really do. But the thing about people is that they always let you down.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t kill himself,” replied Matt, “I’m not saying it was murder. All I’m saying is maybe, maybe, this is worth looking in to. Haven’t there been enough weird things going on lately? All that stuff with clairvoyants and threats? Please,” he pleaded, “I just… I just want to be sure. For Ed.” He fought to keep his voice steady.

Jane’s face softened. “Sure,” she said, unfolding her arms, “Sure. We can check it out. It’s just…” she paused and grimaced, “Well, how? Where would we even start?”

Matt hesitated, considering. “Ed’s computer,” he said finally, “He spent most of his time there. He was there before he died. Maybe it’ll have something.” He glanced at her. “What do you think?”

Jane shrugged. “Better than nothing.” She blinked in surprise as Matt swung his legs out and over the bench. “What, now?”

“We’ve already wasted enough time,” Matt replied shortly. He got to his feet.

“I’ve got class,” complained Jane, but after a moment’s hesitation she likewise followed his lead, albeit semi-reluctantly.

They walked side by side out the Hall and up the stairs leading to the upper levels. With most people either already at breakfast, training, or nursing hangovers, the corridors were nearly empty.

“You sure Ed would want us snooping through his stuff?” asked Jane, as they reached the third floor. But when they rounded the off-shoot corner that led to the computer labs, the irrelevance of her concern became apparent. The door to Ed’s IT room was already open, the doorway bisected by a line of yellow plastic tape, beyond which were swarming several police and technicians.

“Better us than them,” Matt muttered, slowing to a walk as an officer in a windbreaker strode past them carrying a thick, heavy-looking black case. He glanced over his shoulder at the “POLICE” emblazoned on the man’s retreating form. Cautiously, Matt approached the open doorway and stole a quick glance inside, poking his head underneath the yellow “POLICE LINE” tape. The familiar waft of stale heat that greeted him was somewhat diluted.

There was about five people inside going about their various business, more than he’d ever seen in the room at once. One policewoman was standing on a chair in the corner, examining the security camera, while a man leant over the rows of free-use computers, leaning down one by one, pecking at the keys – a third was on her hands and knees, gloved hands picking through the wastepaper basket, while a fourth, a large stony-faced man, stood cross-armed against the wall keeping watch. The fifth, a lean-built tech with wire-frame glasses, was seated in front of Ed’s set-up. None of them seemed to notice Matt’s head protruding discreetly through the doorway. Matt leaned back, then glanced behind him at Jane, who had fallen silent and was still standing a few feet away with an expression of extreme reluctance. His foot already halfway inside, Matt nudged his head, beckoning her to follow, but Jane vehemently shook her head.

“Come on,” he mouthed, understanding full well her hesitation but having no time for it right now. Jane gesticulated furiously, her exact words unclear but her overall message abundantly obvious. Matt shrugged as if to say ‘well I’m going,’ and Jane rolled her eyes upwards in despair.

“I am not missing class to get arrested!” she hissed.

“You won’t get arrested!” Matt hissed back, but she waved him down, shaking her head in violent jerks. “Fine!” he whispered, “Go!” Matt shooed her away and, ignoring Jane’s look of despondence and doom along with her flurry of half-whispered swear words, ducked under the plastic tape.