Gail is leaning against a fence across the road from the church. She helped see Oliver Shaw to the ambulance and has retreated to the footpath to watch what has been a mob scene of police and ETF and trucks and flashing lights only a few minutes ago dissolve in front of her eyes. All for one man, she thinks. And they hadn't even got him yet.

It is frosty out. She wishes Chris would hurry up. Gail can see her breath frosting up but she can't really feel the cold. That's one thing fear is good for, she thinks, keeping you warm.

"Gail!"

Gail looks up to see Chris running toward her, holding up his phone. He stops at the car, parked across the road from her.

"Swarek's been shot." He shouts across the road at her.

"Wai… wha…what?" She pushes herself off the fence and runs across the road to him.

"I just heard it on the radio inside the church. The gunman was at 15. They got him, but he shot Sam. It's pretty bad."

Gail fights the urge to sit down in the middle of the icy street. She folds her arms around her stomach, and tries to pull some of the cold night air into her lungs. How much more can 15 take today?

"Come on!" Chris runs around, yanks open the driver's seat and gets in.

She nods numbly and staggers around to the other side, climbing into the passenger seat. Chris starts the car, while Gail automatically reaches next to her and switches on the siren. They take off down the street, a blur of light and sound.

"Where?" she asks him through clenched teeth.

"Same place as Chloe."

"No," Gail whispers. "Where was he shot?"

"Oh, stomach, I think they said."

"Why wasn't he wearing a vest?"

"I don't know. I've told you everything I know. He'll be okay, Gail." Chris takes his hand from the steering wheel and squeezes Gail's hand. He keeps a hold of it. "Everything will be okay."

"That's what you said this morning," Gail retorts, trying to blink back tears. They fall anyway. "And look how well that worked out."

Chris doesn't respond. Instead, he accelerates, urging the car along the quiet streets.

"I'm sorry." Gail says quickly, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "That was mean."

"It's okay." Chris squeezes her hand again and then places it back on the wheel as he turns into an intersection.

Gail leans her head back against the headrest and unclips her vest. She thinks about what Chris said in the car this morning. Not about everything being okay –she hadn't been foolish enough to believe that anyway –but about it being dark enough to see the stars. She looks out through the windshield, up at the bright Toronto night sky. Wisdom boy was way wrong. She can't see a single star.

He may have been wrong, she realises they tear into the hospital parking lot, the hospital that now holds two of her friends, but she had been right: they have all had it very, very easy until now.

Chris pulls up at the front of the hospital, braking hard. He jumps out of the car, pushes the door shut and looks back in the window at Gail.

"You coming?"

"I am," Gail tells him. "Just give me one minute."

He looks in at her for a long second and then nods, turns away and strides to the entrance.

Gail watches the stream of her workmates entering the hospital. She will follow them. But first she has to do something. She wipes her eyes again, pulls out her phone and dials the number. The phone rings and rings and rings, before going to messages. She bites her lip, sniffs, and waits for the tone.

"Hey, it's me."

Please take a minute to review your thoughts on the story so far when you are done. Feedback is always deeply appreciated and, let's not kid ourselves (Gail Peck wouldn't), highly motivating!