“Oh my God.”

The relief was overwhelming. I felt Dan’s hand gripping my arm. I could almost see the smile on Tvist’s face. “I wanted you to hear it from me and not from the press, Cal. You will have many questions, I’m sure, but a piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. We shall speak more.” And he was gone.

“Wow,” I said, “Fuck.”

“That’s my Licia,” said Dan. “You can be proud.”

“So fucking proud.”

“We both know Licia’s a survivor, Cal.”

I took the roundabout at the top of the slip road, turned left across the bridge that crossed the highway.

“Just the one wee note of caution,” said Dan “You do understand that man has already released this story to the press?”

“Do you think so?”

“I’d say that’s pretty much what he was telling you.”

Elsa was fresh from the shower, hair wet, a towel knotted over her breasts.

Dan stepped into her waiting arms. “Good to see you, darling. Wish the circumstances . . .”

“Circumstances just improved a little,” said Elsa. “I think.”

“Dan, tell Mum we have five minutes. She literally needs to get dressed now.” Vee was standing, impatient for her mother to end the embrace, in a blue sequined dress exactly like her sister’s, a thin black cardigan across her shoulders.

“A journalist called,” said Elsa, eyes shining, “to tell me Licia saved a little boy. Called her the hero of Garden Island. Said she ended the massacre.”

“Yeah. Tvist called me,” I said.

“So this can only be good,” said Elsa. “Right?”

Dan stepped away from Elsa. “I’d maybe switch your phones off for the next couple of days. Give some thought to how you manage this.”

Confusion in Elsa’s eyes. “Manage this?”

“Mum,” said Vee, “you really need to get ready.”

Elsa looked at Vee, seemed to see for the first time the kingfisher dress. Vee crossed her arms self-consciously across her body, drew the cardigan tight.

“Where’s the dress from, Vee?” I said.

“Julie,” said Vee, suddenly defensive.

“Because it looks awfully like—”

“Are those your sister’s shoes?” said Elsa, her voice full of simmering fury.

Vee, defiant, all jutting angles. Her mother staring daggers. Was that what she had found on the island? Her sister’s dress?

I saw the tremble in Vee’s jaw, saw the clenching of her right fist, saw the nail of her right forefinger digging into the quick of the thumb. “They’re Licia’s shoes. Julie lent me the dress.”

“And if I check with Julie’s mum?” said Elsa.

Dan walked toward Vee, took her in his arms, looked at Elsa, then at me. “This is a tribute,” he said. “Right, Vee?”

Vee nodded. Her eyes were filling with tears.

“Might be an idea to change, love,” I said, as gently as I could.