‘You’ll learn, little one,’ he said wisely, ruffling Forest’s shaggy hair. ‘No one convinces your grandmother of anything.’

Frankie left, and the three Dempseys made themselves comfortable. They spent the next few hours talking about inconsequential things. Ivy described the renovations made to Safe Harbour since Forest had been a child, and Mackerel spoke at length about the work he did out on the ocean for Big Mane. Talking about the sea, at least, gave him a little sense of calm, and he grew into the conversation as the day went on.

Forest was good at asking questions. Ivy, now sitting in the corner and crocheting, nodded in what might have even been encouragement as Mackerel spoke, drawing interest from the boy.

But while for the most part Forest listened attentively, occasionally asking a question about some detail or other, he offered nothing of his own. Mackerel did have to wonder what had happened to that animal skittishness he’d seen in the hospital room two days ago. This boy looked almost at ease.

No. No, that was wrong. Whenever Forest didn’t think anyone was watching him, his face went tight and his shoulders hunched. He could put on a good act, but Mack still felt like one wrong move might send him scurrying for cover.

Later that afternoon they were joined by De Corrado and Smith, but the detectives got nothing out of Forest. Ivy smiled wanly when De Corrado looked her way.

When De Corrado left, she winked at Mackerel, which made him feel better about his outburst the night before. Although he was glad Ivy didn’t catch it – he didn’t want her thinking he was mates with the cops.

After they left, Frankie joined the room. Forest gave her such a sincere smile that Mackerel had to assume it was fake.

After that, Mack had a nap on Forest’s bed while he and Ivy went for a walk around the grounds. When they returned, Mackerel was called into another room, where he sat down for a debrief with Ivy, Frankie, the new psychiatrist and Detective De Corrado.

‘Honestly, I’m getting nowhere with him,’ said Frankie to Ivy. ‘Whatever happened to him these last seven years, he’s fully dissociated from it. And I think being in this facility, nice as it is, isn’t helping. He’s longing to go back to Shacktown. I say we let him.’

‘Based off Dr Joseph’s notes, I’d agree. Time for a new direction,’ said the psychiatrist. ‘But only if there are appropriate supports in place in Shacktown. And if you feel able to care for him following the events of yesterday.’

‘Don’t you worry about me, dear,’ Ivy told her, eyes glittering. ‘Forest should be around family now.’