All I can hope for, when I die, is to be a buzzing topic of conversation over breakfast. Our meal was with the masses – Katherine must have booked the private room for yesterday’s lunch – and the dining hall was alive with conversation. Snippets jumped out as I threaded my way through the long wooden benches: frozen solid!; I got stuck in the bunker on Hole Eight last year too, not as bad as this guy though, maybe he needs to work on his chip shot; I heard he’s not even staying here?; I’m not letting Jason and Holly out of my sight.

I joined the line, shuffling past the bain-maries, and filled my plate. The bacon was untouched, assumedly because people were confronting their own mortality and avoiding saturated fats. I loaded up, then joined my family, sitting next to Lucy and across from Sofia. This was closer to my mother than I preferred, but I thought it too pointed to leave a gap and sit on the other side of Andy and Katherine. While every other table was trading theories about what had happened to the man on the mountain, which I thought would be an opportunity for Sofia to propound her murder theory, she was uncharacteristically quiet, head down, pushing her food around rather than eating it. Instead, I had to listen to Marcelo gently defend himself against Lucy’s latest investment opportunity pitch, some harebrained scheme that was so multi-level it needed an elevator. I used to make fun of her for it, until I’d realised that these companies prey on women by weaponising certain feminist ideals – namely independence, both financial and in business – to fabricate a sense of self-worth. Lucy, with her husband in prison, was a perfect target to become addicted to this faux success.

Marcelo, to his credit, was weathering her Boss Babe attack calmly, waiting for her to tire herself out. ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying being a part of something, but be careful. Like with that car they’ve given you.’ Marcelo couldn’t resist just one dig at her. ‘I hear it’s on a pretty rigid contract – you could get stuck with a very expensive lease.’

‘I know what I’m doing,’ Lucy huffed. ‘We actually paid it off in advance.’ She said the last part proudly, but Marcelo clearly didn’t believe her. She was quiet after that.