‘Yin was born on this day sixteen years ago. She was my first child and I was so happy to meet her. She was a perfect baby with a full head of black hair.’

Mrs Mitchell starts hiccup-crying. Her husband’s arm sneaks around her shoulders.

‘Oh, man.’ Mum grabs my hand and starts kneading it.

Mrs Mitchell swallows, continues.

‘Dad, Mum, Nelson and Albert wish you a happy birthday, Yin. Wherever you are. Tonight we pray that you will return to us soon. To the man who has my daughter, please be kind to her on this special day. I think you are a good man who can do the right thing. To the public—thank you for your kind words and thoughts. We announce that we are offering a reward of one hundred thousand Australian dollars for information leading to the return of our daughter. Please, we are begging you, if you know anything that might help the investigation, please contact the police. You can be anonymous. Help us find Yin.’

A reporter shouts a question, but a woman in a suit steps in and takes over the microphone. The footage cuts out and the newsreader takes over.

‘Police have released an updated photo of Yin Mitchell, which may be closer to her current appearance.’

The photo they show is more recent, maybe even this year’s school photo.

‘Again, if any member of the public believes they have any information related to Yin’s disappearance, they are urged to contact the hotline number below.’

A tear slides down Mum’s cheek. She wipes it away, pretends it wasn’t there in the first place. ‘Albert and Nelson? Those kids will be getting hell at school with those names.’

I give her a rueful smile as my phone vibrates in my pocket.

It’s an unknown number.

‘Hello?’

‘Are you watching it?’

I can’t tell who it is. The person on the other end gets impatient. ‘It’s Natalia. From school. Are you watching the news?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I am.’ I get up and go to my bedroom. ‘Did you know it was her birthday?’

‘Yes. Yes, I did.’ Silence and uneven breathing.

I flop down on my bed. ‘A hundred thousand is a lot of money.’

More breathing, then, ‘The reward shouldn’t be for her return, it should be for information that puts that sicko away for life.’

‘She could still be alive.’

All of a sudden I’m afraid the reward will work. It’s been more than a month. What if it’s not about Yin’s safe return, but about finding her body? Maybe it’s better not knowing. I look at my neglected picture wall and everything on it seems so old, from a million years ago. Irrelevant.

There’s dead silence for so long I wonder if I’ve messed up.