The boy is climbing up a ladder to the roof. It's a long ladder, steel, he's maybe 30 feet in the air, it's a concrete room, brightly lit and poorly illuminated, feels like it's in a basement or parkade instead of the top floor of an office tower. There's a hole he's climbing through, I'm supposed to be watching or catching him, I climb up after. The hole to the roof is surrounded with torn fiberglass insulation, I'm bringing a little girl, these are not my children, the relationship is coincidental. We get to the roof after him, it's foggy, we can't see to the end of the building, the pebbledash on the tar slopes into a clear puddle of water left on the roof, deep. You can see the pebbles into the water, the girl wants to look into the puddle, you can see all of the little pebbles, grey, black, going down into the water. The boy leaves us, walks up ahead. We wait a couple of minutes then get up to follow, he's disappeared into the mist. We walk along the side of the puddle, there's a heap of pebbledash, and in the stones we see revealed the boys face, mottled blue, a hasty burial, blending into the stones, he's dead - there's nothing we can do. I take the girl and lead her away from this, "Don't Look" I tell her, he was only a minute away from us, what could have happened? We are looking for the place to get back downstairs...