Oli nods a greeting to one of the weekend sports editors as they pass each other. He holds out a bright-green foil bag. ‘Chip?’

‘No, thanks.’ She waves and rolls her eyes, suggesting there’s a mountain of work she is about to get stuck into.

‘Good work on that podcast,’ he says, spraying chip crumbs in her direction. ‘Really felt like being there.’

‘Thanks.’

She plonks herself down at her desk and adjusts her chair so her knees don’t hit its underside. The coffee cup from earlier in the week is still there, congealed milk caking the base.

Loading the University of Melbourne website, she curses the terrible navigation. After several dead ends, she finds what she’s looking for. McCrae lectures twice a week, on Monday and Tuesday mornings.

Still no word from Cooper. Oli wonders if he’s gone rogue again. Did something else he read in Isabelle’s diaries give him a lead to pitch to Dawn? Surely not.

Clenching her teeth, Oli texts Dean, explaining she has a sore throat and will head to bed early in the hope of shaking it off, and that she’ll call tomorrow.

An email arrives in her inbox, the name catching her eye: Richard Mann from The Daily. Frowning, she clicks on it and reads the short message.

Dear Olive, I’ve heard you’re looking to move and I’d love to chat. Lots of exciting opportunities here in news, we’re making some big investments. I don’t want to get into too much detail over email but I suspect you could go a long way with a bit more autonomy. Give me a call. R

Oli throws her phone onto her desk, where it clatters noisily. TJ is really getting on her nerves now. He’s clearly been in Richard’s ear—she knows they’re mates.

She grabs her bag and pulls on her jacket before wrestling it off again and stalking into Dawn’s office. ‘Where’s TJ?’

‘Good evening to you too, Oli.’ Dawn arches an eyebrow. Over the course of the day her blusher has slid from her cheekbones, giving her a slightly clownish look.

‘Where is he?’

‘Working, I presume. He’s been putting in some serious hours on O’Brien in the background, among other things. When he checked in earlier, he said he was meeting with a source who made contact with him. I mean, who knows if it will amount to anything, but—’

‘What’s going on around here, Dawn?’ Oli interrupts.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘TJ said …’ Oli stops. Her thoughts are all jumbled.

‘TJ said what?’ Dawn’s freckles are almost completely hidden by her thick foundation. ‘Oli, what are you talking about?’

‘Have you seen Cooper?’ Oli says stiffly.

‘Cooper?’ Dawn shakes her head, exasperated. ‘I thought you wanted TJ?’

Oli glances back out at the newsroom. It’s virtually empty. ‘Have you seen him today?’