She takes a deep breath and releases it in a sigh. ‘I have something I need to show you.’ Her slippers patter across the hallway floor.

My head is beginning to throb. I press a hand against my hot skin. My mouth feels dry. I need a drink. When I stand it takes a moment for me to right myself as the room swishes in circles.

At the sink I lean my head under the tap, gulping down water, then, pulling out drawers, I search for paracetamol, my fingers trailing over elastic bands and old postcards when they suddenly stop, resting on a white piece of card.

On it are three words of an incomplete sentence. In block capitals they say I TOLD YOU –

Half dazed, I pick it up, staring at the writing, looking over my shoulder before clutching it tightly and making my way to the hallway.

Annie has disappeared into the back room. The door is wide open, its key dangling from the lock. I hover in the doorway, lifting the card. My heart is beating far too rapidly. ‘You sent me the notes.’

She turns around. Out of her hands spill a fan of photographs, their box lying open on the table next to her.

She doesn’t speak.

‘It was you,’ I say. ‘You sent me threats. Why would you do that?’

‘I didn’t want you here,’ she says eventually.

‘So you tried to scare me?’

‘You were threatening us all—’

‘I thought you were on my side,’ I cry.

‘I am on your side.’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘No. If you were you wouldn’t send me anonymous notes telling me to stop digging, that I wouldn’t like what I’d find.’

Something at the bottom of the box catches my attention. My hand reaches out for it but she pulls it out of my way.

‘What was that?’ I say.

‘What was what?’

‘In that box. It’s Danny’s drawing book. What are you doing with it?’

My head is spinning and I grip on to the desk to stop myself swaying. ‘There are no rocks,’ I say suddenly.

‘What?’ Annie frowns.

I shake my head, pieces of a puzzle flitting around it, trying hard to make them fit together. ‘Earlier you said the way Iona hit that rock. There are no rocks on that part of the beach. She couldn’t have hit one.’

The overheard snatches of conversation in the police station dance in front of me. What had been said? The injuries from the fall could have killed her but they weren’t sure. It was made to look like she hit a rock.

If Annie answers I don’t hear. My head is whirring, thoughts wrapping themselves around each other. ‘I don’t feel right,’ I say, stumbling forward. ‘Annie? I don’t feel well.’

I wait for her to help but she steps further away.