I look at Leo.
“An emergency.”
His eyes get big. “What kind of emergency?”
“I don't know.”
“Fire?”
“No! Dad would have to call the fire station.”
“Broken leg?”
“No!”
“Snake?”
“Leo!”
“What?”
“We don't even have a snake!”
“You could get one.”
“Where?”
He shrugs. “Outside?”
I stare at him. “No snakes.”
“Fine.”
I think again. Then I remember the verandah. The creaky step. Dad has been saying he's going to fix it for forever.
“The step.”
“What step?”
“The one at my house. It’s broken.”
“Did your dad fall off it?”
“No.”
“He could.”
I stare at Leo and my mouth makes that really big scared O.
“I’m not pushing him.” I shout.
“I didn't say you should!”
“You were thinking it.”
“No, I wasn't.”
“You were.”