I sank into my favourite chair on the other side of the fireplace. Aside from regular visits here, I tried to take Nan back to the farm every time I had a day off. It brought tears to my eyes when I saw her slowly walk the long hallway, running her hands along the wall, as if feeling the memories. She did the same with her possessions; the crocheted table runner, the frame of a kitchen chair, absorbing the experience of coming home through her skin.

‘How’s that dog of yours?’ Nan asked.

‘He’s fine. Caught a rabbit the other day.’ I grimaced, even though by the time I got home, there wasn’t much left but a scattering of fur and a very pleased dog.

‘That’s the country for you,’ said Nan.

When Nan lived at the farm, there was always a string of dogs. I remembered running along behind her as she walked her pack through the paddocks each day. This memory was one of the reasons I felt so drawn to adopt Waffles; the farm wouldn’t be the same without a dog.

‘Waffles is fine. It’s me who has to get used to it.’

‘And have you heard from’—Nan hesitated—‘Daniel?’ Her old eyes were astute. Always had been. She would have made a good detective.

Tears came unbidden. Most of the time, I could hide it, but never from Nan. With her, I could feel as vulnerable as a child. I blinked the tears away.

‘I got a text that I didn’t answer. He misses me.’

‘Are you sure you can’t—’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’ And I was sure. No matter how many wonderful memories I had of our time together, I would never forget the way he spoke to me on the day it all ended. Of course, it had been a while in the build-up. I had noticed something like jealousy creep into his voice whenever I spoke about Gemma, like she took up too much of my time or headspace. I could sense it, but I never called him on it. I should have, but I didn’t. Daniel was a detective inspector and a decade my senior. Looking back, I deferred to him in a lot of things. Every case I had, he’d had one that was worse. It had never bothered me and I hadn’t even really noticed it until Gemma. Daniel said that what happened to her wasn’t that bad in the scheme of things. He’d seen women die of their injuries. Kept saying she was stupid to go to the park with him. Kept saying she’d get over it. Problem was, these proclamations came over a wine on our couch at night after I mentioned I’d seen Gemma. The broken distraught girl from my day was dismissed by night because he knew better. He knew more.

Only he didn’t. He knew nothing.