Shaking, she opens the 2005 diary and fans through the pages. It’s full of Isabelle’s distinctive handwriting. Appointments are recorded in the daily planner, followed by several pages of notes. Inexplicably, a tear runs down Oli’s cheek, and she hastily wipes it away. This feels like the ultimate betrayal, like she is breaking an unspoken code, but she also feels an intense connection. Maybe Isabelle sat in this room, on this very couch, with Dean sleeping down the hall, writing in these books.

Flipping to the start of the notes pages, Oli skims over Isabelle’s words. There are shorthand references to cases. A few names are familiar from old news stories, but most have no context, just pages of half thoughts. Isabelle has a tendency to summarise each page with a series of questions: Link between tram and Willis? Is the script relevant to the doctor appointment? Gun licence in 1992. Son lives on a farm. Connected?

Oli glances at her watch—she has to leave. She places the diaries on the desk, then returns the box and bags to the cupboard. A frenzied feeling takes over, and she rushes to the bedroom, grabbing a calico shopping bag from the hook on the back of the door and sliding the diaries inside. She wraps the excess material around the bulk before forcing the bag into her satchel. Heart hammering, she hurries downstairs to pick up the twins.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHLORINE STINGS HER EYES, NEEDLES HER PORES AND CLINGS TO her hair. There’s the piercing screech of a whistle followed by splashing, the rumble of cheering. Oli loses track of Amy and Kate in the milieu of sleek black swimming costumes, pale limbs and disturbed water. Most people in the stands are on their feet, whooping and pumping their fists. One father is yelling at such volume, his face such an alarming shade of red, that she worries he might induce a heart attack. The swimmers reach the other end and disappear under the water in tumble turns, reappearing a few metres from the wall. Mouths gulp for air, light bouncing off goggles.

After her strange episode at the house and discovery of the diaries, Oli feels completely off kilter. She rolls her shoulders and feigns interest as she looks down at the pool. Remnants of adrenaline are still circulating in her bloodstream, and her heart rate picks up as she thinks about the pages and pages of Isabelle’s diaries waiting for her to devour.

Her phone beeps. The audio file Cooper sent when they arrived at the pool finally loads. He sent the link with no message, just a password. He’s obviously still pissed. Oli eases in her earbuds, and presses the play icon, her deep voice merging with the steady hum of the carnival.