De Corrado had understood right away that Shelby wasn’t some criminal mastermind – she was a mother pushed to the brink by the secrets her family kept from her, and then driven over the edge by grief. Terrible grief over the murder of her son.

Between De Corrado and Fiona, they’d even arranged a number of speaking engagements for her once she made bail – she’d already appeared via video-link to speak to community groups and rehab clinics – as a way to bring some good from her story.

Early on, Ahab had made a comment that it was all for show, trying to impress the courts, and Forest thought the three women were going to lynch him: with De Corrado at the front of the line.

Forest hadn’t gone to visit her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, just yet. But from what De Corrado told them, although Shelby was still raw from everything she lost, she was desperate to put things right. Forest was willing to let this guardianship agreement go ahead; he thought of the memorial service for Kane and Davey, and how Shelby hadn’t been able to attend. Shelby had lost more than anyone.

Well, maybe her losses and Forest’s were about equal. Not that it worked like that. But who knew, maybe they’d even get along? He missed having a mother, and he thought Shelby might need him for the years ahead. She had suffered trauma that would haunt her for the rest of her life, but so did he, and look at him now . . .

Not long ago, he’d been trapped in a dissociative mental snap. Now he had his name, a house, Dempsey Abalone. He’d wanted to clear Huck’s name . . . well, he’d done that. Somehow. In a weird way. If Jonah Donnager was still out there, he hoped he’d feel safe to come forward now.

He reached a hand to his shoulder blade, where those tattoos still showed on his skin.

THIS IS FOREST DEMPSEY

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

What had he wished for? To save Huck . . . Dr Joseph said that drive was probably his subconscious wanting him to save himself. And he’d done it. He’d lost a leg, but he’d gained everything.

He looked down at the paperwork again. All it needed was his signature.

A pen appeared under his nose. Mackenzie, watchful as always, had read his mind. Forest took the pen with a grateful smile and signed his name.

Forest Dempsey.

‘It needs a witness,’ he said.

‘I’ll do the honours,’ said Ahab, standing directly across the bar now, leaning on his fists. ‘Mack got to deliver it – it’s my turn to sign it.’ He took the pen, twisted the paperwork around so it faced him, and signed it with gravitas.