In video recorded by a Palestinian rescuer, a shout comes from under mounds of smashed concrete.
"I'm Alma."
"Don't help me first. Help my mum and dad. And please help my brother Tarazan. He's a baby, 18 months old."
It's morning on 2 December 2023, and 12-year old Alma Jaroor has been buried under the rubble of a five-storey building in downtown Gaza City for over three hours.
"I want to see my brothers and sister," she shouts. "I have missed them."
But the rescuer reaches Alma first, and she clambers out - unaided - from between jagged slabs of concrete and twisted metal bars.
She is coated in dust but has no major injuries.
They ask where her family is. She points to the rubble on her right and left.
Three months on, Alma tells the BBC her story, at length and in detail.
Her uncle Sami sits nearby. She is sheltering with him and his family in a tent in Rafah, in southern Gaza.
Her words are a torrent of horror and loss.
"I remember waking up under the rubble. I checked my iPad, and saw it was 09:00. I hoped my brother Tarazan would still be alive. I was calling out to him, and holding on to hope that one of them would be alive.
"I could smell the blood. It was dripping on to me. I was screaming for anyone to rescue us. I was hearing others calling out as well."
But after Alma was rescued, she saw Tarazan's remains.
"I lifted the blanket that was covering him. I found him in an unimaginable state," she says, "his head severed." At this she falls silent, haunted by what she cannot unsee.
"I wish for death after seeing my brother like that," she says. "He was only 18 months old. What has he done in this war?"