The morning when Kate returned to school, Meredith had told Kate that they were lying when they told you what it was like to die. “Your whole life doesn’t flash before your eyes,” she said. “You get to relive one moment. Just one.”

“What did you relive?” Kate had asked, sceptical. Blunt as ever, Meredith claimed she’d “relived” the moment her foot got stuck in the yabby net. “I don’t know if that counts,” Kate had said.

“Oh,” Meredith had said, “it counts.”

With Emma beside her and the others trailing far behind, Kate looked out at the cityscape of Melbourne. The bright lights were cast against a canvas of stars, the moon glowing full and clear. For the first time since the beginning of the year, they’d hiked a different track, deep through the bush that led them to the point on Lords where they could best see the city. Last time, when she’d found herself at this point with Emma and Molly, the three of them had tried to convince themselves that, if they concentrated hard enough, over the crashing waves at the base of the cliff they could hear the screams from St. Kilda’s Luna Park. Not tonight. Tonight, all Kate could hear was the muffled sound of Tilly’s laughter as she caught up with Molly, Lexi, and Grace. For the first time in a long time, Kate’s heart felt full. I’ll die happy, she thought, if this is the one moment I get to relive.

“I can’t believe this is over next year,” Emma said. “No more Sunday night ferries and breakfasts in the dining hall.”

“You still have nine months of breakfasts in the dining hall,” Kate reasoned as the others joined them at the cliff’s edge. “And tomorrow before the ferry. It’s not over yet.”

“I’m glad it’s almost over,” Grace said as she fell to lie down on the grass. “I don’t know how I’ll get through another May of saying The Angelus every day.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I think you’ll survive.”

Lexi sighed as she collapsed beside Grace. “This is so depressing. Everyone is going to leave me at the end of next year.”

Emma scoffed. “As if you’re not going to love being the eldest.”

Tilly moved closer, and with the brush of her fingers against the back of her hand, Kate felt the affection right down to her core. In the dark, the gesture was infinitesimal, nothing compared to the touches they’d shared behind closed doors since Monday. A wave of calmness settled inside her. She was always so intensely aware of Tilly, and after spending the past three nights sleeping together, it was quickly growing apparent that perhaps the feeling was more requited than she’d first assumed.

Living in this bubble would come to an end on Saturday night when Kate left St. Joan’s for good—but they had yet to discuss where the coming week would take them. There was hope in the fact that Tilly hadn’t gone to the mainland for Tuesday night dinner at Declan’s, but still, on Wednesday afternoon, Kate had returned to the cottage to find Tilly at the sewing machine, the kitchen table covered in glitter from the hem of Lily’s angel costume. Quickly, Tilly had packed up the costume. Of course she was still going to the Christmas play. Regardless of what was happening between Declan and Tilly, Tilly would never let the little girl down. It would be ridiculous for Kate to expect anything less.