The mirror revealed a puffy-faced stranger with a bloodshot eye and a fat lip. Her tongue had three cuts where her teeth had gone in, and she had a mark on her cheek, a crimson splodge like a rose. It was as if a bear had attacked her—a big brown bear with rough paws. A raw sob rasped her throat, and one of her ears buzzed like bees in the apple blossoms. There was no time for self-pity. She wound a scarf around her face so only her eyes were showing, then grabbed a knife and dug the nail from the windowsill—no need to be careful anymore. She tipped the recycling from the crate, leaving cans all over the floor, then she dropped it from the window without bothering about the string. As she clambered out, her face was pulsing with pain.

It had started to rain outside, and she was thankful nobody was around as she raced up the street. She had no plan except to go to Wendy who knew about Kurt and had offered to help. But Miki pounded on Wendy’s door to no answer. Next door, Bonnie was leaping at the fence. As the rain thickened, Miki hovered on the doorstep, stressing about what to do, desperately hoping Wendy would arrive. Max’s dog Rosie came from behind the house and snuffled Miki with a wet nose. She pushed the dog away firmly—her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t suppress thoughts of Kurt speeding up the forest road and taking the turnoff to the tree. She could picture him bouncing along the track, stopping at the tree, pulling out his rifle and loading it. She’d worried before about the risk of him losing control with that gun. And now, enraged and shamed over his belief a man had tampered with her, he wouldn’t be rational.

She decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She would go to the visitor centre, and if Geraldine wasn’t there she would head straight to the police.

Her face throbbed as she hurried downhill, and by the time she opened the front door to the centre she was soaked through with rain. Geraldine was at the desk with a book in her hands. She looked up, surprised. ‘Is that you, Miki? Take your scarf off. Don’t worry about being wet.’

Miki quickly shrugged off her coat and unravelled the scarf.

Geraldine’s features contracted. ‘My God! What’s he done to you?’

‘We need to call the police,’ Miki said. ‘Kurt’s gone after Leon.’ Her voice was husky and her speech slurred because of the cuts in her tongue.

Geraldine grabbed the phone, dialled a number and passed the handset over the desk. Miki had never used a telephone before. They hadn’t had one on the farm, and since then their only phone was Kurt’s mobile.