‘Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault,’ said Murphy. ‘Not Denni, not these girls. But what were they fighting about?’

‘I don’t know, Murphy! I think it was about a boy. The five of them were lagging behind everyone else at the campsite. I thought they were just being lazy, and I knew better than to let Tom or Jack try to hurry them up. You know what those girls are like.

‘But before I knew it they were pushing and shoving and shouting. Madison punched Jasmine and Jasmine hit her back, then it was just chaos. I broke it up, with the help of the other girls. Madison was still fuming, and I was sure they would start up again, so I sent her on ahead to catch up with Tom and Jack.’ Eliza spoke quickly. ‘I know that was a mistake, but they hadn’t gone that far ahead . . . I thought it was best . . .’

‘But Jasmine was okay?’ said Murphy. The nurse had finished treating his wrists and led him to the chair beside Eliza’s bed.

‘She seemed fine. You know that she’s strong, Murphy. I tried to find out what had happened, but the girls were all tight-lipped. I made the rest walk with me . . . slowly, so we wouldn’t catch up with Madison. Cierra was crying and Georgia looked like she was going to vomit. Bree was blaming Jasmine, but Jasmine was fine, just kept chewing on her drink bottle.’ She paused. Her lip trembled for a moment, but she brought it back under control, seeming irritated at her weakness. ‘If I hadn’t made them walk so slow —’

‘Then what?’ Murphy hated himself for rushing her, but he was desperate.

‘We walked together, I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes? I was at the front and Georgia was talking to me, but the other three kept dragging their feet – Bree especially – and everyone was getting spread out and . . .’ Eliza made a conscious effort to slow down. ‘It took me too long to realise we had become separated from Jasmine, Cierra and Bree. I told Georgia we needed to go back and find them, but she sat down on the ground and said she was too tired, she was going to wait for me. And . . . and . . . I went back, and . . .’ She took another breath. ‘This is where my memory goes . . . funny. It’s almost like it’s a dream. Does that make sense, Murphy?’

Murphy put a hand on her wrist. Eliza was shaking like a leaf, and her skin was hot to the touch.

‘Murphy,’ she said, ‘things went strange.’

‘What do you mean?’ Murphy moved closer, now sitting on the bed beside her. He ignored the nurse, who was still hovering, keenly listening in.