At the edge of my vision, something flashed through the gum trees. Marty? Bella?

A line of kangaroos bounding towards higher ground. The wind whipped around them, making the bushes dance and the dirt fly.

We’d never taken Archie to a farm but Marty had sung to him every evening. Using stuffed toys as props, hoping that Archie could see the movement, he’d run through endless renditions of ‘Old MacDonald Had a Farm’. Marty’s favourite was the pink spotted pig—an oink oink here, an oink oink there. In those moments, Marty would forget to be a paediatrician and simply be Archie’s dad. He’d sing and dance and smile, and I could feel the tension in Archie’s body relaxing slightly. That last night, as I was getting ready to go out, Marty had been singing to Archie. He’d been concerned that Archie’s temperature was a touch higher than usual. Yes, Marty had been tired, stressed and worried, but that was the same as every other day. He wouldn’t really have hurt Archie … would he?

When I’d found Archie cold in his cot and screamed, Marty had been beside me in an instant, starting CPR. Later, after Archie had been pronounced dead, we’d clung to our son, weeping together. And almost every night since, Marty’s sleep had been broken by nightmares.

Wiping my eyes, I focused on the kangaroos, trying to untangle my thoughts. Why would Marty tell the truth to Mel anyway? Could Mel be lying? But what about the emails to Lorraine?

Trust yourself. A tiny voice in my head. I imagined it was Archie but then I remembered: Marty had kept repeating it to me after Bella’s birth. Trust yourself. You’re a good mum. I’d failed my son, and now I risked failing my husband and my daughter too. Trust your instincts. Bella isn’t with Tara and Josh. Marty isn’t safe.

Leaving the car in the middle of the track, jamming the keys into my pocket, I skirted through the trees, around the back of the house. It must have been built in the late 1800s, a few decades before Canberra had been created as the national capital. A rambling property in a secluded valley at the base of the mountains, miles from anywhere. Perfectly hidden.

Shivering, I sprinted from the trees to the side of the house, ducking into the shade of the wraparound verandah. One, two, three. I’d started counting without realising. The last time I’d counted, Bella had disappeared. Start counting and make her reappear. Four, five, six, seven.