Jaxon leans back in his seat, working on the playlist. Now’s the time to talk to my father. I hope we have lots in common, that my fantasy of the perfect dad is really possible. First question: what does he do?

‘Do you work at the national park too? Is that how you know Jaxon?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Oh, so you’re still fishing? Do you go, like, every summer on the boats?’ I’m still seeing the Father’s Day ad, and even though I don’t eat fish I could definitely do a scenic trip in summer, my father by my side. Sun warming my back, I’d take the wheel, steering our boat away from the coast as a salty breeze curled my hair. At sunset, we’d see a whale migrating north to her feeding grounds. She would slap the water with her flipper, saying hello.

‘No, I stopped fishing many years ago,’ he says, breaking my reverie. ‘As for the national parks, Jaxon’s tracking wolf births and deaths, and marking the location of dens. But they’re top secret. There’s a ton of people who’d want to get their hands on them.’

‘Who’d want to hurt wolves?’ I ask.

‘Wolves?’ Jaxon leans forward again. ‘It’s crazy complicated, the politics, you wouldn’t believe—’

I cut him off to ask my father, ‘So you love animals like me?’

‘Well … sure, I love the wilderness,’ he says. ‘No better place than Alaska. Although Australia has its beautiful spots too and remarkable wildlife. What do you feel like eating, by the way? We can stop at this little diner, let me check how far it is …’ He picks up the map.

He’s changing the subject again and I can’t help but wonder why.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My phone beeps. ‘Sorry,’ I say as Adam veers from one highway to another. A tall snowy embankment separates us from the occasional bright headlight coming towards us. Blackwoods whoosh by on my right, long, skinny tree trunks making shapes out of the darkness. ‘Just a quick message.’

‘Go for it,’ he says. ‘Jaxon, have you tried your dad again this morning?’

‘I’ll call again now.’

I look down at my phone. You won’t believe what happened last night, Lucy writes.

I check my watch. It’s the middle of the night?! I reply.

Gotta feed our new baby magpie every few hours.

Aww. I send heart eyes.

Lucy’s parents, Mark and Gail, have a whole section of their bird rescue, rehabilitation and release shelter dedicated to magpies. They have licences to care for many other native bird species too, even birds of prey like brown falcons. They gave Chirp a spacious home among them, despite her not being native, or ever being able to be released back into the wild.

So what happened? I ask.

Remember the guy I danced with at the gala, Malcolm?

Sure. Tall with red hair.