Before I leave, I kiss her and promise to come and see her in the salon later.

On the drive to the Point, Upton calls my cell phone. I answer this time. She’ll only call Mum if I don’t pick up.

“I’m sorry we didn’t speak yesterday, Cara. What was it you wanted to say to me?” she asks. Wind echoes down the phone; it sounds like she’s already at the Point.

“Is it Grace’s dress they’ve found? Does it have stars on it?”

“I can’t talk about that, Cara. I’m sorry. What did you want to tell me yesterday?”

She won’t tell me whether they’ve found Grace’s dress or not, but she wants me to share everything I know with her? I remember what Jon said about that poor Adam kid, how he was murdered because the police screwed up the investigation. I won’t let the same thing happen to Grace.

“I was calling for an update, that was all.”

“You’re sure? Because remember, any detail, no matter how small, could be really helpful.”

“I’m sure.”

She exhales like she’s already having a bad day and I’ve just made it a bit worse. But I don’t care. I’ve had enough of everyone, apart from Jon, treating me like a traumatized child. I hang up, and as I turn onto the road to the Point, I realize I don’t care about anything anymore, my exam results, getting into uni, being single—none of that troubles me. Now I only care about Grace.

The waves beat against the rock at Grey’s Point like the sea is angry with the land, trying to teach it a lesson. Granddad told me once that people have been jumping from here since the Middle Ages; still today there are at least a handful of deaths reported every year. I can see why they choose this spot. The Point looks sure to do the job. It must be two hundred feet high. Pointed rocks jut into the foamy water like angry fists, but the soft colors where the horizon meets the sea makes it feel like heaven is just one step away. There’s a Samaritans advertisement in the parking lot, which is already busy, even at eight in the morning. I notice an ambulance and two police cars amongst the family SUVs. I try not to look at them. I’ve seen Grace wheeled into an ambulance too many times. I don’t want to see it again, one last time. Just before I get out of the car, my phone makes a sound I haven’t heard before. I glance at it. I downloaded the Wishmakers app last night and GoodSam has come on to the forum. There’s a tick next to the message I sent, telling me he’s read it, but he hasn’t replied yet. Just an hour ago he seemed so important. Now I can’t think about him.