Outside, with all the commotion of courthouse steps interviews and jostling camera crews, Anita was busy doing her job, covering this as the big story it surely was, and she lost sight of the Lesters and Damien. But once John Santino and his entourage had driven off in hire cars, the crowd dispersed quickly, leaving only the usual population of the street—a few legal bods and office workers going about their business.

Anita hung around Phillip Street, trying to get hold of Rohan. He would’ve heard the result but she wanted to talk to him anyway. As she walked around the side of the courthouse building, leaving another voice message, she noticed Damien Ross slouched against the sandstone wall, weeping helplessly, not caring that passers-by were gawping at him.

Anita decided not to waste time with introductions—he would’ve recognised her as part of the journalistic pack.

‘I’m so sorry about Kendra.’

He nodded, polite, but not interested in hearing platitudes.

Anita launched straight in. ‘Three months ago, my friend Stacey was killed by her estranged husband, straight after he’d shot her kids.’

‘Fucking hell.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m very sorry,’ Damien said. ‘Did he go to jail?’

‘No. He shot himself.’

‘Ah.’

‘Shame John Santino didn’t do the world the same favour.’

Damien scrunched up his mouth, relishing that image.

‘Then again,’ said Anita, ‘it would’ve been satisfying to see him go to jail.’

Damien nodded and Anita leaned against the wall next to him, sliding her laptop bag down between her feet.

‘I’m Anita, by the way.’

‘Hi, Anita.’

She let a silence go by and then said, ‘I’ve spent a lot of time going over and over what I could’ve done to keep my friend safe.’

‘Ooh yeah,’ Damien sighed.

‘Me and another good friend—we didn’t know how to help Stacey. Whenever we asked questions, she just retreated further away from us. I’m not sure if we helped or made it worse.’ ‘Right. That’s the trouble.’

‘The thing is, Kendra was so fucking brave. She left the coercive dickhead who’d taken her prisoner. She was coming to find you.’

Damien shrugged, eyes swimming with tears. ‘I should’ve answered the phone.’

‘He was already tracking her by then. And anyway, anyway, please don’t blame yourself. John Santino is the fiend in Kendra’s story. Don’t you siphon one drop of blame off that guy and soak it into yourself. Save all your rage for him.’

Damien pulled a face. Maybe you’re right.

‘Look, Damien, I don’t know you, but I know a lot about the background of this case, and I watched you in that court. You were a wonderful friend to Kendra.’

Damien swayed his head from side to side, not accepting that.

‘Yes. Yes, you were.’

Damien started sobbing again, but more in grief than rage now.