Days pass in a state of ennui waiting for something to happen. I’ve not heard from Rata, but we’ve been following developments online. Every media update makes me sick with dread. What if someone has the video of Daniel and me from that night in Auckland? Maybe Scotty is sitting on it, planning to blackmail me, or release it to the world.

Tonight on Sunday Night they have the first guests who stayed at the lake house on the show, Cherry and Dan. They look different to their photos, he has put on a little weight and she is wearing much more make-up than in her social media photos.

‘And have the police confirmed whether or not you two were filmed as well?’

‘No,’ she says in her Canadian accent, turning to her husband as if to confirm her answer. I think about their dog Donald.

‘But it’s possible?’

The woman pantomimes shivering, and the husband drags his lips to one side, shakes his head. He speaks now: ‘I guess it is possible. Someone might have footage of us, in the shower, or on the toilet.’

‘It’s a scary thought.’

The interviewer nods; an open, interested expression on her face. ‘And Cain and Lina Phillips, did you have any dealings with them?’

‘This is unfair,’ I say to Cain now. ‘The show didn’t contact us.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he snaps, his eyes fixed on the screen.

The man turns to his wife. ‘They just let us know how to check in and sent us a nice welcome message. Oh –’ he pauses now, turning to his wife, a half smile plays at his lips. ‘Remember the LinkedIn thing?’

My heart drops. I see and hear it all in some hyper-slow reality where every millisecond drags for a minute.

‘That’s right,’ the woman intones. When she speaks again there’s more energy in her voice. ‘We had an odd thing happen on LinkedIn.’

‘And what was that?’

‘Well, Lina had visited both of our LinkedIn profiles. You can see who has viewed them and she came up.’

‘She viewed them,’ the presenter says, annunciating viewed with a cock of her head. ‘That must have creeped you out a little?’

The skin at the base of my throat becomes tight.

‘Yeah, it did creep us out a bit,’ the woman says. ‘Makes you wonder what else they looked up of ours. We had lots of really positive reviews from previous stays so they shouldn’t need to snoop into our personal lives.’

‘Looking back on it now, that probably should have been a bit of a warning.’ The man laughs.

I want to scream at the TV. You are not the victims. ‘This passes as journalism? She doesn’t even point out that nothing happened to these people, their involvement is incidental.’

Cain turns to me, hisses, ‘Shhh.’

‘More after the break,’ the interviewer says.