That was all of it. He had it down, even the tone—a sombre heft to the serious news at the start and a dash of light-hearted optimism for the details at the end. But as he prepared himself to say it, other thoughts crept in. How lately Callie had lost her appetite and was existing mostly on tea. How even ten minutes in the garden—that garden she’d summoned and caressed out of the soil into existence—now exhausted her. How only the day before, as she slept in the valley’s low afternoon light, he’d felt for her knee through the blanket and found a thin spike of bone. How slowly the doctor had spoken when he’d told them the diagnosis. How, before Ned left that morning, Callie had gripped his fingers, found her old boldness. ‘Don’t you lie to them, Ned. You give them the truth.’

He felt a sudden sharpness in his eyes, and blinked himself back into the present. Realised that he’d trailed off. He reached for words, but Sally filled the silence first.

‘If you know so much,’ she asked, ‘then what’s the river’s name? Its real name.’

Ned stopped himself from snapping at her again. Tried to think. He’d heard it somewhere, once. He was sure. But it felt like his mind was wading against a current, and the name would not come to him.

‘It’s kanamaluka, Dad. It’s called kanamaluka.’

‘Ah, yes. That’s right,’ he said. ‘Now listen, there’s something your mother and I—’

‘Did you ever think about giving it back?’ The challenge was gone from Sally’s voice. Now she was speaking softly, almost conspiratorially.

Ned stared at her.

‘It’s what some other people are doing,’ she continued. ‘Giving their land back. Or at least sharing it.’ She reached over, put a hand on his wrist. ‘Did you and Mum ever consider it?’ She was speaking with a reasonable tone, as if it made all the sense in the world.

Ned felt the warmth of her palm. Wanted her to let go. ‘I didn’t drive all this way to talk about that. Listen, you girls need to—’

‘Sal.’ It was Grace, finally turning from the window to cut her father off. A new kind of weariness in her expression.

Sally blew out a breath. ‘I’m just asking…’

‘You can’t expect all this of him. How’s he meant to understand?’ Grace turned to Ned. Gave him an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, Dad.’

Ned met her gaze. Felt her condescension tear a new wound in him. He felt off-balance, disoriented, angry. His daughters had never spoken to him like this before. Nobody had.

Sally sighed, picked up her drink.