‘Hmm . . . first I’ll need something new I can tell the police.’ She said it matter-of-factly, with full certainty he’d provide what she was asking for. She’d almost caught him out with that trick twice already – she’d wait until he was caught off-guard, then ask for information with such confidence that he almost obliged without thinking.

‘I don’t have anything,’ said Forest. ‘Goodnight, Frankie.’

‘They’re still after information – they need to know something new, Forest.’

He stood up, still feeling that weird sensation, and walked over to the bed as best he could. He climbed under the covers and Zeus jumped up beside him.

‘Alright. I understand, Forest. Thank you, Forest. Goodnight, Forest,’ she said.

The dog wagged his tail once.

Frankie flicked off the lights and closed the door behind her without another word, leaving the room in darkness save for the city lights filtering through the hospital blinds.

Davey was dead.

Did his death have something to do with Forest’s return?

It had to. The coincidence was too great.

Which meant Forest had killed him. However indirectly, he was responsible for a man’s death.

He had to get out of there – he wouldn’t learn a thing from this hospital room.

And he had to get to Huck.

He counted to one hundred before climbing out from under the covers. Underneath his bed, neatly folded, were a black hoodie, jeans and sneakers. He’d had one of the nurses bring them to him that morning – he’d spun her a story about how vulnerable he felt in his hospital gown, how naked, and how he would feel better in some clothes that were his favourite colour, black. Maybe something with a hood, so he could pull it over his head when he felt scared, some comfy shoes . . . She’d eaten it up.

Quickly and quietly, he got dressed, putting spare pillows underneath the doona.

‘I’ll be back soon, Zeus,’ he said. ‘Sorry I can’t bring you with me. I’ll try to be back before dawn. Just go to sleep.’

Zeus wuffed.

This would be the tricky part. The bathroom window was small, but it was set right beside a fire escape. The main window, out in his room, was too far from the fire escape, and they’d notice right away if he knocked out all that glass . . .

He wrapped his fist in a towel and smashed the glass, trying to get as many of the tinkling shards to fall inside the room as possible. When that was done, he climbed up on the toilet, laid towels around the window frame and squeezed himself through.