Cooper stops short next to Oli and draws a sharp breath. ‘Holy shit.’

Oli’s own neck feels tight, sore, as she tries to swallow past the lump that has formed in her throat.

Cooper’s hands shake as he lifts the camera.

MARCH 2006

MARCH 2006

Hundreds of people call her name. This must be what it’s like to be a movie star, Alex thinks, taking in the swarm of faces. Mouths open and shut like squawking birds, and words blur into an indecipherable mass of noise. Alex flinches as something large and black is shoved in her face. A microphone. Hundreds of circles glint in the crowd, the shine from the camera lenses catching in the sun. Alex keeps her head down, looks at her feet. Black boots, no scuff marks, cheap but new. Her eyes drift to a reporter standing to the side of the courthouse, and the one next to her.

Alex imagines being at home on the couch with Evelyn and Nicole, speculating about the girl on the news.

She looks guilty, Evelyn would say.

One hundred per cent, Alex would agree.

Ugly outfit, Nicole would add.

‘This way, head down, good girl.’

Alex’s lawyer, Ruby Yeoh, is a tiny but terrifying woman with a fringe as straight as a builder’s level. Alex has spent a significant portion of the past few months looking at Ruby’s face, which is generally twisted with disappointment. ‘You don’t make my job easy, Alex Riboni,’ Ruby says often, shaking her head.

But they both know that Ruby loves the cut and thrust of the law, the drama of court. She has been on a high this past week, counting down the days until she can perform on stage. Alex is her reluctant co-star, incapable of learning her lines no matter how many times they go over them.

‘Almost there,’ Ruby barks, as she pushes Alex along, reassuring in an aggressive way.

They break through the crowd and step into the revolving door at the front of the courthouse. Alex is herded through security, holding up her scrawny arms as she’s scanned for weapons.

The fuzziness lifts for the first time since that night at the house. This is it, she thinks. Funny, when it all comes down to it, that what goes on record in a court of law is simply a version of reality just like everything else. Alex wonders how many people lie on the stand. A quarter? Half?

She looks around as Ruby tugs her toward a large wooden door. It will be over in no more than a fortnight, maybe less. An overwhelming sense of relief slams through her, and she trips, stumbling to the floor. Ruby’s tiny mouth turns down at the edges as she grabs her shoulders, holding them for a second as if some sanity can be passed on.

‘Sorry,’ Alex mutters.

‘Just keep it together,’ Ruby hisses. ‘Please.’