I had to get out of this claustrophobic room, back on the footpaths, searching for my Bella. Pushing open the screen door, I stepped into the cold night air and gasped for breath. Too cold, too cold for my little Tinker Bell. Instead of rushing onto the streets, I stumbled to the sandpit and collapsed against its wooden edge. Eight hours ago, this is exactly where she had been. Scooping sand into Sammy’s yellow bucket.

Someone sat down next to me in the dark and a soft arm was draped around my shoulders. Imogen. Dear sweet Imogen. By my side since this nightmare began.

‘Where can she be?’

‘I don’t know, but we’ll find her,’ Imogen promised me. ‘We’re going to search through the night. More people are coming to help. Lucas has organised some volunteers. Mates from Duntroon. Friends of friends. Playgroup dads. They’re all arriving now.’

The unexpected kindness from friends and strangers brought tears to my eyes yet again. I rested my head against my knees and sobbed. The police, SES, Imogen—everyone was assuring me they’d find her. But where was she?

Imogen rubbed my back and kept talking, her palm warming me wherever it touched. The coldness was coming from deep inside me, not from the chilly air.

‘The local church has brought sandwiches and hot quiches for everyone. Do you want something to eat?’

No food. Not when my daughter was hungry and cold and lost.

‘I want to search too,’ I told Imogen. ‘I need to be out there.’

‘Of course. I’ll get a torch and I’ll ask Tara to pop home and grab a coat for you. Is Mel still at your house?’

These playgroup mums, whom I’d worked so hard to befriend in a new city, were here now for me and for Bella.

I phoned Mel. She was in my kitchen, with Sammy laughing in the background. The laughter cut through me and I doubled over. Imogen took the phone and worked out the details. Mel had to leave but Tara would go there next to make sure someone was in the house all night. Should Tara collect pizza for us on the way? All these people rearranging their lives to help. Please, God, please help one of them find her.

Imogen encouraged me to eat an egg sandwich. I could only manage a small triangle.

‘We’ll find her soon,’ Imogen repeated. ‘It’s all over the news and Facebook. Everyone is sharing Bella’s photo. All my friends, the church congregation, their friends, Lucas’s army mates.’

Far and wide, people would be looking for Bella.

Far and wide, people knew that I had lost my daughter.