‘Yeah, umm, he did,’ Bonnie fudges, knowing that Ben had been momentarily sidetracked.

‘Can you change into your swimsuit?’ The words roll out of Darcy’s mouth as though she’s suggesting Bonnie put shoes on.

Usually Bonnie would at least grimace at such a suggestion, but today she’d do just about anything to get Darcy away from the bedroom and the illegal phone that’s almost burning a hole into the mattress. ‘I’ll just get changed and I’ll be right down.’

‘Great. I’ve got the guys setting up on the lounges by the pool.’ Darcy goes to walk away, but at that moment a humming sound palpitates through the room.

Omigod.

It’s been so long since Bonnie has even heard that beloved sound, but the noise immediately fills her with dread. She feels like someone has weighed her down with bricks and thrown her out to sea. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows she needs to distract Darcy from the noise. But she’s frozen as vibrations pulse against the mattress, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end.

Darcy’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open, her lips forming a little ‘O’ shape. ‘Have you got a phone in here?’

Too late.

Bonnie tries to speak, which would probably help dull the incessant buzzing, but instead shakes her head with an expression to suggest that Darcy is crazy for even suggesting such a thing.

Oh, God. Did she really just try to lie about this?

Darcy takes a step closer, her expression tight and her narrowed eyes already a blaze of fury. She reaches the bed and pulls back the blankets without any hesitation. The black mobile stares up at them, the screen bright with an incoming call.

Bonnie hears herself whimper.

Of course Sophie would be her undoing.

‘I have to give you an official warning.’ Darcy is surprised she doesn’t choke on the words. When on earth did she become the principal, reprimanding someone for doing the wrong thing? A decade ago she’d been dragged into her principal’s office for wagging class and heading down to the river. A few times they’d even driven over to Forster for the day. She has a sudden longing for when her life contained no responsibility.

‘Okay.’ Bonnie’s voice is meek and she won’t meet her eye.

‘When you entered the house, you signed an agreement,’ Darcy goes on. The agreement is close to a one-hundred-page document about all the conditions of being a contestant on The One. Some of the clauses are a little ridiculous, but the use of mobile phones is surely a straightforward one. ‘You’ve broken the contract.’

‘I really am sorry.’