But not Bree Wilkins. She stood all alone, on a flat rock that was raised like a stage. Her scowl could’ve been felt a mile away. Angsty Bree.

She looked Jasmine’s way. Jasmine held those angry pale eyes for a moment, until Bree’s lips curled back in a sneer and Jasmine turned away in what she hoped was a dignified fashion.

They all continued on, Miss Ellis taking off her glasses to wipe her eyes. Mr North was comforting her, his massive hand low on her back.

And so, on they went, deeper into the bush, towards the bluffs, the wind howling up the escarpment.

I will not back out, I will not back out, I will not back out.

An hour later, they came to a small clearing ringed by sassafras trees, with soft grass, a bench carved into a log. A sign detailed the three hiking tracks that split here: a short hike to the Devils Gullet lookout, a five-and-a-half hour loop along the top of the Tiers, and the three-hour walk they would be doing, to the Western Bluff lookout. As well as the incredible view, there was a campsite there, by the historic Trapper’s Hut from the 1900s. Jasmine had seen it before. It was built out of bark and logs. You were allowed to camp in it, but it was scary as hell.

The whole group stopped to drink and eat and complain, and someone shrieked when they found a tiger snake curled up nearby. ‘I know it’s an early riser for the season but calm down, girls, it’s more scared of you than you are of it. Just keep your eyes open. This is their home, not yours,’ said Mr North.

They split into two groups before continuing on: Miss Ellis took the smaller, faster group ahead, and Mr North and Jack would hang back with the slower group. The Fab Four stayed with the slower group.

An hour down the path Jasmine’s pack was digging into her shoulders, sweat making her back prickly. Pollen burned her nose; her feet were hot and aching. She didn’t complain: she was very aware of how close Jack was walking behind her. She didn’t want him to think she couldn’t do it.

She glanced back at him. He was watching her closely. ‘Are you okay? Pack isn’t too heavy?’

‘No.’ She faced the front again. He was still worried about her.

She felt guilty.

The bush was less dense in this area at the cloud base: an open forest of alpine cider gum and snow peppermint, the smell Christmas-like. A few metres off the path was the cliff edge, with a very long drop. A constant breeze rolled up over it.

A thump off in the trees made her flinch, and she saw the back of a large Forester kangaroo bounding away. She tried to disguise her flinch as a cough. Why was she so unsettled?