This, Greta is beginning to realize, is completely mortifying. The threat of falling diminishes by degrees until it becomes a small, ridiculous thing, not worth the fuss and bother it's taking just to get her across five feet of wooden flooring and into this odd, arboreal cottage. But she doesn't let go of Iman's hands - it's still an effort to keep herself from squeezing too tightly - and she doesn't take her eyes off her friend until they're both safely seated. At which point she looks down at their hands, cheeks flushing. She still can't bring herself to let go. How embarrassing.

"I'm all right," she says. "I just, er..." She just doesn't want to talk about it. "The height took me by surprise," she finishes. True, if not exactly the point.

"But what about you?" she asks, looking back up at Iman. "Are you safe?" She doesn't expect details - it would be best not to get any - but she can't help asking.