“It’s real,” says Dina’s friend, pointing to a claw bone. “That’s mine. We all sign one. Writing your name on a dinosaur bone makes you feel part of something valuable, you know.”
We hear a scream and see Dina by the window, a red light flashing on her face.
“Don’t do it…”
Down below we make out the outline of a man on the ledge. I place my hand on her shoulder and feel her shaking body and wonder if this is what an earthquake feels like.