I watch the boys. One turns, nudges the others then they’re all watching Cain, grins lighting up their faces, eyebrows rising. The constellation of scars, the coils of traditional tattoos spilling down over his shoulder to his forearm, his Tā moko, it’s all on display.

I quickly download the dating app again and sign in with my fake credentials.

Looking up, I see Cain climbing the rail of the bridge with the ease of a professional wrestler preparing for an aerial manoeuvre. He leaps as best he can with his knee, takes flight for a moment, suspended at the peak of his arc then he’s falling. The splash reaches up over the rail and the boys collectively hunch away from the spray.

Right then my phone chimes. It’s a message on the app. A bubble rises up from my chest and settles in my throat.

I’ve got something for you.

I knew it. Dread washes over me as my eyes dart back up to the bridge, searching for Cain. The message is oddly cold. He has my ring and my necklace. I must have left them at the house.

Cain emerges at the river’s edge, starts back towards the car. Walking just a hint taller now. The kids adequately impressed.

I delete my photo from the profile, but I can’t close the account yet – I will need to contact him to get my ring back. Cain approaches. I delete the app and lock the phone, shoving it in the glove box. It was supposed to be one night. Traceless and perfect. I could always take down the profile and sever the tie. As soon as the thought comes, I realise how heedless it is. It was Cain’s mother’s ring; I can’t just lose it. But the idea of having to see Daniel again twists my stomach.

Cain towels off and climbs back in.

‘They’re happy,’ I say, nodding towards the boys.

He turns to me with that crooked smile. ‘Just needed to cool down.’ He screws a corner of the towel into his ear. One eye is closed, the other is watching me. ‘Are you alright?’ he says. ‘You look pale.’

‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Just exhausted.’ I try to smile, but my cheeks ache.

He drives again, now with his shirt off, the towel around his waist. Soon enough, we’re rolling past the other smaller lakes until we reach Lake Tarawera. I look out at the cliff over the water where all of the trees have grown back over the years, a steel rail has been installed.