The whole café had dropped to a buzz, eyeing the table Murphy had flipped, watching him and Jasmine.

The waitress had come, a scowl on her face, but Con was speaking to her quickly, showing her his police ID, gesturing at Murphy and Jasmine. Together the waitress and Con righted the table and re-set it.

‘Dad?’ said Jasmine, reaching out for his cheek, tenderly brushing the tear that fell from his eye. ‘I can see it in your face. You’ve aged. You were worried. Worried sick. Look how much weight you’ve lost. I dunno, I didn’t think you’d worry about me that much . . . or I didn’t want to think. I guess you saw my videos?

‘Maybe we should sit?’ said Jasmine with a chuckle, taking Murphy’s hands and holding them tightly.

So grown up now.

‘If it’s any consolation, I had the most incredible year ever.’ She sighed happily and took a seat. ‘I can’t wait to tell you all the things I’ve done. And a complete media fast – I feel cleansed, Dad! When I have kids, I’m home-schooling them and not letting them near any kind of screen or newspaper.’

‘Where . . . where have you been?’ croaked Murphy, perched on the edge of his seat. ‘You haven’t seen anything about . . . you didn’t check the news?’

‘No. Nothing. I just . . . and I didn’t want to ruin it all. I knew once I saw the fallout . . . plus I was sure that Cierra, Bree and Georgia would chicken out. Was it bad when they came back? How did Jack take it? I didn’t treat him that nice, we didn’t stick to the plan we told him . . . I was pretty nasty to him, but when I found out he stole your seeds, I admit I wanted to get a little revenge. I was such a child!’

Murphy saw the guilt in her eyes, the excitement, a groundedness that had never been there before. She’d always seemed like a bird about to take flight, but now she was a woman.

How am I supposed to tell her? he thought suddenly. How do I tell her that Georgia and Bree are dead, and Cierra is still missing? And that Eliza died in front of my eyes . . .

His mouth was dry. She’d been gone a whole year and found this peaceful version of herself. How was he going to break the news to her? How would he support her, once she realised how horribly wrong the whole thing had gone? Her year of finding herself would become her trauma.

‘I want to hear everything now, before I tell you my story,’ said Jasmine, clapping her hands, forcing happiness, seeing the state Murphy was in. ‘Did Georgia get her museum? Did Cierra start her own YouTube channel?’

Jasmine is here, and everything is okay.