‘Have you moved here permanently? You didn’t happen to bring Moaning Myrtle, did you? I miss her.’

Murphy glanced at Con, who was still watching the two of them, but the policeman just shrugged.

Murphy smiled back at Jasmine and shook his head, tears again rolling down his cheeks.

And then he began to laugh, big booming laughs that brought the café to another standstill.

No, your cat was killed by your teacher, who was a murderer, and who would’ve killed you if she had the chance.

But it’s okay. You’re here. Nothing else matters.

I have three cats waiting for you at home. I can’t wait for you to see . . .

‘You are here.’ His laughter turned to happy sobbing, and he crushed her in another hug.

‘I missed you, Dad.’

He’d enjoy this moment for a while longer – he’d let Jasmine enjoy it a while longer – before he told her.

Everything is okay.

EPILOGUE

BUTCH

Butch had a strange feeling he was finally on to a good one.

His footsteps scrunched over the fallen bark as he followed a wallaby trail through bush dense with mountain needlebush and spicy mountain pepper berry. It was nearing dusk – he’d been out here longer than intended – but he was drunk enough that he didn’t care.

It was a year since Murphy had burned their old crop to the ground. It hadn’t taken long for Butch to replant that crop and, without Doble on his tail, he’d managed to plant several more small fields, dotted all over the escarpment.

With Madison’s help selling the product online, he’d needed them, too. Butch was becoming more successful by the day, struggling to keep up with demand for The Hungry Man’s Bush Bud.

He was sending a large percentage of his income to Murphy, so why did he still feel so guilty?

He’d been drinking since Murphy had sent that simple text around lunchtime:

She’s here. She’s alive.

Butch couldn’t handle the emotions. Did Jasmine want to see him? Were they going to talk about the fact he was her biological father? Were they going to talk about Sara . . .?

So he’d come out here to scout for another good location. He’d already had a few forays out into this part of the escarpment, hoping to find a good location for a new crop. Barely a kilometre from his house, he’d found an animal trail leading into dense bush that seemed utterly remote.

He came into a clearing in the white gums. A crag of rock loomed out of the trees ahead, one he was sure he’d never seen before. That was good. Rocky spires that big nearly always meant caves, which could be entrances to hidden groves.

He walked faster, but then his heart sank.

A piece of litter, nestled in a tangle of scrub. So, people had been here before.