Peach ran for the side of the house, and Cab saw her struggling to mount a telescoping ladder against the frame. It fought her in the storm like a reluctant dance partner. When she finally slapped it under the roof line, he reached out through the open window with both hands and grabbed the ladder to steady it. The lightweight aluminum bucked and swayed as the wind tried to rip it out of his grasp.

‘Be careful, Peach,’ he called. ‘I can’t hold it.’

She climbed past him. He could see her legs and feet immediately in front of him as she pulled herself up onto the house’s low roof. Her body thumped on the shingles over their heads. She shouted something he couldn’t understand, and then a tortured twisting of metal screeched from above them. Cab saw an aluminum vent hood sail like a Frisbee across the yard. Peach’s body reappeared in front of him. He hugged the ladder, but when she was halfway to the ground, a gust of wind wrenched it from his hands and threw it backward. Peach flew, landing flat on her back in the water.

‘Peach!’ Cab shouted.

He started to climb through the window himself, but she pushed herself to her feet. ‘I’m okay, I’m okay! I’ve got something!’

She had a large plastic-covered package tucked snugly under her arm.

He helped her through the window back into the bedroom. She looked immensely pleased with herself, and he realized that the importance of this discovery wasn’t about anything they might find inside the package. It was about her and Justin. In the end, he’d trusted her. He’d left something for her to find. Not anyone else. Her. He was still the young man she’d loved.

Peach reached out her arms and handed the package to Lala. ‘You look,’ she said.

The package was approximately twelve inches by fifteen inches, wrapped in heavy plastic and sealed with duct tape. It was damp with spray but otherwise undamaged. Cab could see a thick sheaf of papers and manila folders inside. Lala took the package to the mattress and used her fingernails to pick at the duct tape and peel the folds of plastic apart.

Cab saw a stack of photographs that had been produced on a home printer. He recognized the first page; it was a match for the article on Frank Macy that Peach had found under the filing cabinet. Justin was no fool. He’d anticipated that things might come to a bad end, and he’d made a backup of everything he’d discovered.

Lala didn’t flip through the rest of the photographs immediately. Instead, she removed a thick manila folder, similar to the records that Peach had stolen from Dr Smeltz’s office. Peach recognized it, too.

‘Is that a medical file?’ she asked Lala.

Cab saw Lala’s brow wrinkle in confusion. ‘Yes, it is.’