The following morning I call Dad because we need to have a conversation about Danny. ‘It’s Stella,’ I say as Olivia picks up.

‘Oh, Stella …’ My name comes out long and painful, like she’s doubled over in shock. ‘The police were here. They want to question your father. Your brother’s been arrested for murder.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m calling.’

‘I told them absolutely no way is he speaking to them, he isn’t well. He’s got dementia,’ she screams like this is something I don’t know. ‘They’re saying they can get a doctor in there and another adult. But not me. They say it should be someone else.’

‘Have you spoken to Dad about it?’ I ask.

‘He’s unclear and so vague. I think he frustrated them.’

‘But what’s he said to you?’

‘Nothing. He’s not talking about it. Every time I try he shuts down, and I don’t know—’ She breaks off, then adds more quietly, ‘I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose.’

‘Can I speak to him?’

‘No,’ she says, a little too sharply, but then she goes on. ‘As I said, he’s not well. He hasn’t got up yet. He’s drained.’ We fall into a silence before Olivia says, ‘If your brother – if he did what he says he has, then David must have known. He’d have known, wouldn’t he?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say, though I’m also sure he must have. ‘But I think there’s a chance Danny didn’t do it.’

‘I don’t know what else to do,’ Olivia goes on like she hasn’t heard me, and I realise it’s the first time I’ve heard a side of her that needs reassurance from me, that’s willing to show a weakness.

Were it over anything else I would have revelled in the moment, but I find myself telling her everything will be okay, asking her to get Dad to call me as soon as he’s up to it.

I hang up but I can’t settle. It’s Friday and I’m due in the office late morning for my rearranged clients that I’d pushed to the end of the week.

But there are too many things I can’t seem to straighten in my head. I pace back and forth in my kitchen, making breakfast, forgetting what I’m doing midway through a task. I worry what good I’ll be to my clients, since my mind keeps lingering on what Bonnie told me. Iona liked to make up stories.

I have begun to consider that if Iona didn’t come to Evergreen to study, she must have come for something else important.