‘BELLA!’ he called as he ran.

The whump-whump-whump of a helicopter drowned out his voice. Hopefully it was a police helicopter searching the ridge.

As the track opened out at the top, Marty scanned the grassed area, desperate to catch sight of his little girl. But the hilltop was empty. Leaning against the white trig post, puffing, he could see Merrigang at the bottom of the ridge. Splashes of white and pink blossoms dotted the streets; the promise of warmer weather after months of winter frosts. Looking at the curl of the streets, the tears that had been threatening for the past few hours overflowed.

Four weeks ago, up here, Bella had put some keepsakes in his pocket—a twig, a pebble and a yellow leaf. Back then, they’d both been enamoured of the bush; now he wished they lived somewhere else, surrounded only by suburban streets that could be searched methodically rather than this ridge and the hills with their secret hollows and crevices. Where were Bella’s treasures now? His fingers felt in his pocket, as though the pebble would magically appear. Instead, he touched his mobile phone. Time to check in with Lexie.

The conversation was short—Marty told her he could see a helicopter out searching. She said she knew that.

Marty turned slowly in a circle—a panorama of Canberra suburbs to the east, Merrigang on the other side, farms, gum trees, grey rocks, bushland and the Brindabellas in the distance. He cupped his hands around his mouth and roared: ‘BELLA! BELLA! BELLA!’

A scrubby bush nearby shook as startled birds took flight, the flap-flap-flap of their wings the only response to his shout.

Then his mobile rang. He whipped it out of his trouser pocket, desperate for good news.

But no. It was work.

‘Have you found her?’ It was one of the nurses, rushing the question out.

‘Not yet.’

‘Oh, Dr Parker.’ A soft sigh down the line. ‘I’m sure she’ll turn up soon. You know, Canberra is a very safe city.’

Judging by the children they saw in the hospital, he knew that wasn’t strictly true. The worst could happen to any child any time. Car accidents, kitchen burns, playground injuries, drowning, falls from bikes, sporting injuries, child abuse, leukaemia, SIDS, poisoning, dog bites, choking, suffocation … the list was endless.

Would the police look up Bella’s file from ER?

‘Did you get Dr Thompson up to the NICU?’ Marty asked.

‘Yes, he was there an hour ago,’ she answered, echoing his professional tone. ‘I’ll organise for him to do your rounds this evening and tomorrow morning.’

Marty wrapped up the conversation and pressed end on his mobile, not wanting to hear any platitudes.