The door opened and an elderly doctor entered. He looked angry. ‘Sorry, detective, I’m not sure who told you you could be in here. Miss Ellis needs to rest. She’s in no state to answer questions.’

Gabriella stepped in beside the doctor. She shrugged at Con, sipping a coffee she must have weaselled out of the hospital staff. ‘I told him you needed more time, but he insisted.’

Con felt another flash of irritation, but he hid it. ‘Sorry, mate, but this is important,’ he said to the doctor. ‘Lives might be at stake.’

‘Don’t call me mate, it’s crass,’ said the doctor, but he softened. ‘How much longer?’

‘Eliza, this other figure – however weird, it might be our only lead. Is there anything else? Could you take us back to that location?’

‘Maybe? Right now, in this state, I’m not sure.’ She pointed angrily at her own head, indignant at her weakness. ‘But I’ve told you everything I remember. The girls were there, and then they weren’t.’ She put her hands over her face. ‘This has to be a nightmare. I have to help find them.’

The doctor coughed meaningfully at Con and gestured towards the door.

‘Thanks for talking to me, Eliza. It’s been very helpful,’ said Con. ‘Focus on getting better first, but let us know if you remember anything else. That’s how you can help find the girls.’

He nodded at the doctor and stepped out into the corridor, where Gabriella was waiting for him.

‘I spoke to that doctor, but he wouldn’t budge,’ she said. ‘He told me we’re obviously dealing with a concussion, and that doesn’t just mess with your memory, it can affect your personality too – confusion, mood swings, paranoia. It’s not just that she doesn’t remember, she might not be entirely herself, and who knows how long that will last. We need to take everything she says with a grain of salt.’

‘Yeah, I gathered that. Just how hard did she hit her head?’

Gabriella showed him one of the photos from Eliza’s file: it was Eliza’s forehead, showing a big gash surrounded by a purple bruise. ‘She hit her forehead on the ground – but the wound on the back of her head . . .’ She showed him another photo: the back of Eliza’s head, her blonde hair pulled aside to reveal a bloody lump. ‘Blunt force. They found pieces of bark in there.’ Gabriella showed him a third photo. ‘The soles of her feet. Look how scratched up they are: she was walking around barefoot for hours, probably.’ Her face was flushed. ‘Isn’t this weird?’

‘You just missed the best part.’ He loaded up the recording on his phone and played it back.

When it was done, Gabriella let out a breath. ‘Georgia saw someone?’

‘Georgia thought she saw a bear,’ clarified Con.