Every moment he’d been home that month, he’d held baby Victoria against his chest. While reading medical journals, putting away the washing, collecting the mail, even eating meals. He’d felt her tiny heart beating against his, her plump hands reaching for his nose, her reliance on him.

And he’d decided to fight.

Now, Marty expected he’d be the one accused. What would the police imply? Neglect? Emotional abuse? When Caruso had asked him about Bella’s broken wrist, he’d stuck to the same story as Lexie. Not gone into any details. He’d dismissed Victoria’s escapade as a wayward teenage jaunt, furious that Caruso even knew about it. Victoria’s disappearance had nothing to do with Bella.

Victoria and Kimmy had insisted on going for a walk by themselves before dinner, ignoring Marty’s suggestion that they all go together. Two hours later, it was almost dark, dinner was ready and Victoria wouldn’t answer her mobile. Could these teenagers with such attitude actually be lost?

He’d driven through the streets of Merrigang looking for them as the last smudge of daylight dribbled over the mountains and a half-moon appeared. Had they tried to buy alcopops? He stopped at the small supermarket near the playgroup. Marty didn’t remember Angela being involved in a playgroup with Victoria. But, then, she’d had friends who all gave birth around the same time. Half that group was divorced now. Marty and Angela had been the first. Drained by weeks on call, along with worries about two more suspected child abuse cases and an unhappy wife at home with a toddler, Marty had made a terrible mistake. Succumbed to the lilting Welsh charms of Cerys, on exchange from a hospital in Cardiff. Stricken by guilt, Marty had confessed to Angela. He’d offered to go to counselling, showered her with roses and chocolates, cleaned the house, brought home takeaway, knelt on the carpet and begged. But Angela would not be swayed. So, Marty found himself suddenly single again—trying to date between hospital shifts, paediatric training and weekends with his daughter. He vowed never to make the same mistake again. When he’d met Lexie at the charity ball, he couldn’t believe his luck in getting a second chance. And after all these years, Marty still hadn’t told Lexie the full story about his marriage break-up. Too ashamed.

In the Merrigang supermarket, Marty had peered down the aisles. No teens apart from the girl at the cash register. He drove five kilometres along the dark empty road into Canberra, to the nearest big shopping centre, Cooleman Court. Would they have hitchhiked this stretch of bush into the brighter lights of the suburbs? The place was deserted, apart from the Vietnamese restaurant which teemed with a crowd for Father’s Day. Father’s Day with Victoria—what a blast!