‘It’s okay, Zoe, you’re allowed to tell me. Did you see any strangers in the playground?’

The little girl shook her head.

‘Did you see Bella leave the playgroup room?’

She shook her head again, frowned and thought hard.

‘Bella has a sore arm.’

‘Yes, she has a cast on it. Sammy said it gave her magic powers.’

I thought back to that morning, after I’d had difficulty getting Bella’s pink coat on with her cast. Tara had commented on my injured face but the kids had been excited about Bella’s cast. My cut cheek still hurt but it was healing. How could one part of my body be healing when the rest was disintegrating?

‘Sammy said …’ Zoe thought again, then spoke slowly, remembering: ‘Bella—is—not—safe.’

From the lips of an innocent four-year-old. My face stung as though I’d been slapped. Not safe. From me? From Marty? Or from someone else? In Bella’s first year, I’d been a bad mother, lost in a haze of grief, worn down by the media campaign against us and the hospital inquiry. Maybe Bella hadn’t been safe then. But now, now, I was a good mother to my beautiful Tinker Bell. How dare Sammy or Mel or some other faceless playgroup mum imply that I wasn’t!

Mel’s van was not parked outside her house but I hammered on the door anyway. I needed to know what Sammy had meant. Bella is not safe. Words overheard and repeated. I banged the door again. Without waiting for an answer this time, I hurried down the side, opening the gate to the backyard. No-one here. Peering in through the window to the back room, I could see a pile of suitcases and packing boxes. Was Mel still unpacking from five months ago?

Or packing to leave?

Sammy had always been kind to Bella. They laughed together and played make-believe. Bella was a princess trapped on a pirate ship and Sammy would rescue her. He never let Bella be the hero. They pretended the sandpit was the pirate ship and Sammy rode a tricycle as the rescue boat. Picturing them together, I tried to remember their conversations. Had he ever spoken about any other family members? Aunts? Uncles? Grandparents in Byron Bay? Months ago—it must have been his birthday—Sammy said: ‘Aunty Deedee gave me a horse ride.’

Bella had giggled. ‘I have a Deedee too!’

ACT POLICING ONLINE NEWS

MONDAY, 23 SEPTEMBER

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GIRL: Concern for welfare

ACT Policing and ACT Child and Youth Protection Services are seeking urgent public assistance to help locate an eight-year-old girl. Fox Hensley has been missing for a week.

Fox has curly dark hair and brown eyes. She was last seen wearing black tracksuit pants and a light blue long-sleeved polo shirt, with black sandshoes.

It is possible that Fox is travelling with her uncle, Ray Hensley, in a yellow Ford Falcon with ACT numberplates: YFR 336.