The next location was a spectacular rock overhang on the western side of the hill. I sat for a while in the creamy sandstone hollow, wishing I didn’t have to leave. But the silence began to niggle. I found myself listening for the rustle of leaves underfoot. Suddenly the bush seemed threatening; I realised I had no idea what was happening back at the lazaret. For all I knew, there’d been a mass breakout. Packs of boys could be roaming the island with hammers and gas guns and kitchen knives…

Oh, stop it. I dumped the second cache, planted a marker flag and moved on.

Site number three was down on the western shore—a small, roofless brick ruin near the remains of an old stone jetty. The building had once been a boat shed for the lepers but was now used only by stray tourists and seabirds. I left my third cache there, pausing to gaze at the distant line of speckled colour directly across the bay. It reassured me. Cleveland wasn’t that far away. I had a phone. A boat. A gun. I had four veterans too, though they didn’t fill me with confidence. They were supposed to protect me, but would they? Could I trust them?

And then, like a lightning bolt, it hit me. This wasn’t about the veterans at all. This was about Otford. Seeing Aaron had brought everything back—and I was reacting so strongly because the last time something similar had happened, I almost hadn’t recovered. My wounds were still tender, and another round of focused persecution was inflaming them.

‘Don’t follow the feelings,’ I said aloud. I had to remember this wasn’t Otford. I wasn’t powerless. I belonged here.

Everyone else was just passing through.

My last stop was a discarded water tank in the bush. I laid the fourth box of phones on a tree stump beside the rusty remains and jammed a marker flag into the ground nearby. From there I headed straight to Karboora Beach, where I spent a peaceful half-hour skipping stones and doing some mindful breathing. Finally, when I was calm enough, I wandered back to the lazaret. It was nearly lunchtime and I had a job to do. I couldn’t let the campers plunder my supplies unchecked.

As I trudged up the jetty road, I spotted a ring of teenagers sitting on the grass near the ashes of last night’s campfire. Warren and Rhys were there too. Rhys was looming over Jake while Warren jabbed his finger at a topographical map and talked about contour lines. Some of the boys looked more interested than others. Aaron cut me a quick glance.

Nathan was missing. I saw that at once. And where was Shaun?

‘Robyn!’ It was Joe’s voice; I spied him on the dormitory veranda. He beckoned to me. ‘All done?’ he asked when I reached him.