Dillon and his mum looked at each other with mounting worry. There had been no word from Igor since Dillon had left the cockpit. Not knowing what was going on was stressful. It might not be anything to be concerned about but, then again, it could be some sort of disaster.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Flick, noticing their exchange of worried glances.

Before Dillon could answer, Igor’s voice boomed from the speakers: ‘We have a bit of a situation. One of the runways is temporarily out of commission. Something is wrong with the lights. They are down to using one runway for all arrivals and departures, and there is a backlog of freight planes circling and waiting to land. I’ve stressed the importance of our situation and am now awaiting further instruction.’ Dillon heard a long, deep intake of breath. ‘So, for now, we’re stuck up here.’

‘Delay?’ Mum’s eyes were wide and concerned. ‘What about the transplant? We were told we had to get there as quickly as possible.’

A tremor ran through Dillon’s body. First a flat tyre, now an airport delay – nothing was going right.

‘Let’s not get too concerned yet,’ said Flick, her voice calm and even. ‘The delay may only be short. And even if it is a while, that doesn’t necessarily mean the transplant has to be cancelled. There is usually some leeway in terms of timing.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ said Mum, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair, her face a stony mask.

‘May only be short’? ‘Doesn’t necessarily mean’? ‘Usually some leeway’? That doesn’t sound all that reassuring, thought Dillon.

Flick unbuckled her belt and got up. ‘I’m going to check in with Igor and also see if I can get a message to the Royal Children’s Hospital.’

As she disappeared into the cockpit, Dillon leaned his head against the window. The cold glass felt good against his forehead. Below, hundreds of lights were twinkling.

What had Igor called them? Little explosions of joy in the lonely blackness.

Right now, they just made Dillon feel alone. He was so far above them, and he couldn’t get down. He was separated from the lights – isolated.

He tried to connect the dots, but it just wouldn’t work. There were no pictures, no patterns. Just chaos. And in that chaos, he knew, one of those lights was the hospital where a liver waited for him.

Dillon had spent all this time fearing the transplant. But now that it was in jeopardy, he suddenly realised how much he wanted it – how much he craved the life it offered him. He choked back the sob that tried to push its way up.

Flick came bustling back. ‘Everything is going to be all right,’ she said. ‘Igor said that flight control were working on getting us down immediately. And I’ve spoken to the hospital. There will be an ambulance waiting when we land, which will take you straight there. It will be okay.’

Dillon nodded, but wouldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up. He looked back to the window. Still, the lights were just lights.

‘Good news, people.’ Igor’s voice was cheery. ‘Buckle up. We’re coming in to land.’

‘See?’ said Flick. ‘I told you it would be fine.’

Mum sighed with relief.

Dillon felt wobbly, like a tub of jelly. He must have been holding himself so tense, and now that he relaxed, he felt shaky. He was sure that if he had been standing, he would probably have collapsed.

‘I guess this flight wasn’t quite as boring as you were expecting,’ said Flick.

Dillon nodded and looked back out the window. There, in the lights, he could see a smiling face – welcoming them as they descended.