‘Do we need one?’ He slides his hand over hers, and she feels a rush of pleasure. Against all odds she has Dean, the thing that was impossible, the thing she barely dared to hope for. He traces his fingers across her palm, sending shivers up her arm. ‘We need to do this more.’

She nods. The stress of the day is slowly receding, along with the tension she feels around the twins, the strangeness of finding Isabelle’s diaries. ‘Just like old times.’

Dean removes his hand and flips open the menu. He clears his throat softly. ‘Were you at the house today?’

‘What?’ Her hand goes to her necklace, which she toys with nervously. ‘Not since first thing this morning. Why?’

‘The front door was unlocked when I dropped the car off, that’s all.’

Shaking her head, she swallows a mouthful of champagne. She definitely locked the door—she remembers doing it. ‘It wasn’t me, I was at work. Maybe it was the cleaner?’

‘Maybe.’ His eyes burn into hers. ‘The girls loved you picking them up today.’

Oli deflates, releasing the breath she was holding.

‘And having you there to watch them swim,’ he adds. ‘They really did. So did I. And now we can have this special time.’ He grins at her again.

She very much doubts the twins could care less about her taking them to the carnival, but regardless she finds Dean’s tone a little condescending. Like she’s a well-behaved dog that he’s rewarding with a treat. ‘Let’s order,’ she says.

Dean chooses salmon, Oli chooses steak. They sip more champagne.

‘Did your meeting go okay?’ she asks.

‘Yes, it was fine. Nath and his team need a lot of hand-holding at the moment, but I think the kid is going to drop the charges against the uni and move back overseas, so that will help.’ Dean looks over at the table next to them, where a trio of couples are laughing at something on a phone screen. ‘How is your story going?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Oli admits. ‘I want it to be more than just a rehash of the old facts, but there’s not a lot of new material to go on. The cops are keeping pretty quiet about what they found up in Crystalbrook. And the abandoned car in Warrandyte seems to be a dead end. There’s no trace of Nicole or the child.’

Their meals arrive. ‘Enjoy!’ declares the waiter, looking delighted.

‘I just don’t get why Alex Riboni would suicide now—it doesn’t make sense,’ Oli says after a few mouthfuls. ‘I keep going over it. She was about to do an exclusive with our paper, come clean about the past. Then what, she just decides to top herself?’ Oli shakes her head. ‘It’s weird.’

Dean shrugs, cutting his fish into tiny pieces. ‘She clearly had issues.’