‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m calling Will. He needs to come and get you.’

  ‘No!’ I shout, stepping forward. ‘Don’t!’

  Herm freezes, the phone hanging in mid-air. ‘You’re spiralling, just like the last time.’

  ‘That was because of you,’ I whisper. ‘I didn’t want to hurt myself. I just wanted it to stop.’

  His gaze lingers over me, and his eyes go soft. He nods and tilts his head, then lets out a breath. ‘Well, be that as it may, I can’t take that risk.’

  He tucks the phone into the cradle of his shoulder and begins to dial.

  ‘Stop. Just don’t. Please…’

  He clicks the receiver button with his finger and shrugs the phone out from under his ear. ‘Just like always, I can’t say no to you. I guess that was always the problem, wasn’t it?’ he says. ‘I’m too soft when it comes to you. I let you keep coming here as a teenager. I never stopped you from graduating search and rescue, even though I knew deep down you were unstable. I even let your dog there ride in the backseat of my cruiser. And now you’ve come here accusing me, a police officer, of killing two girls, and I’m just going to let it slide.’ He shakes his head in mock disbelief. ‘I’ll tell you, I’m starting to wonder if I might be the crazy one in all of this.’

  My head spins. I didn’t keep coming back here, did I? There were a few times when Jason went hiking and wasn’t back before sunset. I came and asked Herm to have someone try and find him. Every time, he was always waiting, leaning over the counter, eyes bargaining before I even got a word out. I close my eyes and see the red and blue lights of his cruiser cutting through the dark, catching me for spray painting or smoking or some other stupid thing. Had I known he would? Is that why I did it?

  I can feel him watching me. His eyes exploring every expression, clocking the twitch of my lip and the pulse of anxiety across my temple.

  ‘Poor Mia,’ he whispers. ‘You never could get out of your own way, could you? How about we just pretend none of this ever happened? There’ll be no more wild accusations, no more threats, and I won’t tell Will about this. It will be our little secret.’

  Our little secret.

  The words echo through my mind, pulling me back to the first time he said them. I was thirteen. His hands were cold on my thigh. I was crying. The memory sparks something, and I suddenly stand taller, braver. I never wanted to come here. Not ever, and I can’t let him do this to me again.

  I step forward and see the first flicker of fear in Herm’s eyes. ‘You and I don’t have any little secrets anymore,’ I tell him. ‘I told Jason and Will what you did to me. They know what you are.’

  For a moment, he stares at me, his eyes clouding with confusion. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘I would,’ I say, feeling stronger with every word. ‘You want to call Will? Fine, call him. Call my brother. Call anyone you want. It doesn’t change what you did, or the fact that I’m going to find out who killed those girls.’

  ‘You’re sick, Mia,’ he tries again. ‘You need…’

  ‘…help,’ I answer. ‘Yeah, so I’ve heard, but I’m still going to find out the truth.’

  Without another word, I turn and walk out. My heart is racing, but I keep moving, Koda by my side, his steps matching mine.

  Outside, the sun feels too bright, too harsh. I pause, sucking in the cool, fresh air, and crouch beside Koda. He immediately presses his head into my hands, and I bury my face in his fur.

  Together, we sit like that for a long time. Just the two of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Juniper

  NOW that I know for certain there’s more to this story than the police are letting on, I’m determined to find out what really happened. I can't let my insecurities get in the way. I messed up in Sydney, but now I have a chance to fix it – a real chance.

  Hazel was found on Willow’s Crossing, and Lilly just outside the boundary. If Mum’s right, there’s one person in Wildling who will be more than happy to tell me anything I want to know. Better still, he’s perfectly placed to know every detail.

  Bryce Stanton.

  ‘Thanks for coming to meet me,’ I tell him with a smile, as we wander through the park down by Main Street. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  He grins and lets his eyes linger over my face. First on my eyes, then travelling down to my lips. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually back, Junie. Never thought I’d see the day.’

  I slowly steer him toward the sprawling fig tree, knowing it will spark memories of the two of us. ‘I know, it’s weird, right? After three years away, I thought things would be different here, but everything feels exactly the same.’

  ‘Not everything.’

  I search his face, trying to decide what to say. The day I left was the first time I’d ever seen Bryce cry. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened with us,’ I begin. ‘It was never about not loving you, Bryce. I just had to try and make something of myself. Away from here.’

  He nods and tucks his hands into his jeans pockets. I almost forgot how good-looking he is, with his Zac Efron smile and those bright blue eyes. I quickly remind myself I’m here for the story, not to get caught back up in a relationship. But he’s just so damned handsome…

  ‘I get it, Junie,’ he tells me. ‘Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to just get on a plane and never come back. Forget all about Willow’s Crossing and my parents.’

  The admission surprises me. I remember seeing our third-class teacher, Ms Spannagle, down at the pool once sunbaking in a red two-piece bathing suit. Out of her modest brown skirts and collared shirts, she was almost unrecognisable, and something about it just felt strange to me. In my mind, she lived in the classroom. She didn’t wear swimmers or lie in the sun, and it’s the same with Bryce. He is Willow’s Crossing, and Willow’s Crossing is him. Seeing him in another life would just feel wrong.

  ‘But you love the farm. And what would your mum do if you left?’ I laugh out loud at the thought. ‘She’d have a meltdown.’

  He laughs, and the sound makes my heart skip a beat. Shit.

  ‘Yeah, she’s… a lot. Always loved you though, Junie. Dad too.’

  For a couple of minutes, we walk in silence, and it feels easy. Familiar. It’s tempting to just enjoy the moment instead of worrying about the story, but I want more than this. More than being Bryce Stanton’s girl.

  ‘How’s your mum coping with everything that’s happened?’ I ask, hoping he’ll speak freely.

  ‘Those girls, you mean?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s not quite business as usual in Wildling.’

  ‘Nope, it’s sure not.’

  He doesn’t elaborate, and I search for the right thing to say next. ‘Have the police said anything more about Hazel?’

  ‘Anything more like what?’

  It could just be the distance that’s grown between us, but something about Bryce suddenly feels different. Almost like he’s on guard.

  ‘Like, why she was found on your property?’

  He stops walking and turns to face me. ‘Not yet. Why do you ask?’

  I shrug and try to brush it off. ‘Just curious, I suppose. It’s not every day a dead girl turns up in your back paddock. Did you know either of them?’

  I take a few steps forward but stop when I realise he’s not walking next to me. When I turn back, he’s glaring at me in a way I’ve never seen before. ‘Bryce?’

  ‘Did you want to see me so you could write a story?’

  My throat thickens, and I glance away. He’ll know if I lie. He knows me too well.

  ‘Answer me, Juniper,’ he snaps. ‘Is this for a story?’

  I naively thought Bryce would be so keen to please me that our conversation would be open and honest, that he would consider my questions, and we’d talk it through. But from the way he’s staring at me, I can see I've overestimated my effect on him. His face hardens, and his eyes narrow. His lips press into a thin, tight line as he waits for an answer I have no clue how to give.

  ‘I’m not sure yet,’ I say, trying to sound genuine. ‘There’s talk of there being a murderer in Wildling. I mean, a murderer. In Wildling. It’s unbelievable.’

  To my surprise, Bryce laughs out loud, but it sounds different this time. ‘A murderer? You have to be joking, Juniper?’

  ‘Two girls are dead for no apparent reason.’

  ‘Lilly Daniels was a drug user. We all knew that. What happened is no surprise to me or probably anyone.’

  ‘So, you knew her?’

  ‘Not really. I’m just saying there’s no murderer, so don’t go writing shit that makes people think there's some lunatic murdering girls and using our property as a dumping ground. That’s the last thing we need.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to write that, Bryce. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to them.’

  ‘Well, like I said, Lilly was a junkie. And the other one… well, Christ, Juniper, how the hell would I know what those people do or how she ended up on our property?’

  I’ve never known Bryce to talk like this. He was always so softly spoken, almost humble. He used to hold my hand so gently. His touch was loving, reassuring. I felt safe with him. But now, as I look at his face, sneering and flushed with anger, he looks like a stranger to me. ‘You know what? Let’s just leave it. You’re probably right.’

  ‘Are you going to write the story?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll see what I can find out, I guess, and—’

  Before I can finish, Bryce grabs my arm and drags me toward the tree. The base is so wide that it will be impossible for anyone to see us behind it. As teenagers, that was the allure. Complete privacy to explore each other without anyone ever seeing a thing. But now it feels dangerous.

  ‘Bryce, stop it,’ I tell him, trying to pull out of his grasp. ‘Let me go.’

  His fingers are wrapped around the top of my arm, and he drags me across the park so quickly I almost lose my balance. When we reach the tree, he shoves my back against the trunk and leans in, leaving only centimetres between his face and mine. Memories of him causing my legs to tremble come rushing back. I used to want to pull him in so close that not even air could come between us. I ached for his touch, his breath against my skin. But now all I feel is fear.

  ‘If you write anything like that, or say that I said anything, we’re going to have a problem. Do you hear me?’

  ‘Bryce, let go of me,’ I tell him. ‘You’re scaring me.’

  ‘The last thing my family needs is more bloody reporters swarming around the front gate. Just leave us alone. Mum is getting triggered by the whole thing. Dad says it’s just like back when she was a kid and Aunt Missy died, so just leave it, all right?’

  ‘All right, I’m sorry. I’ll leave it. You have my word.’

  Instantly, his face softens, and he steps back, letting me go. ‘Thanks, Junie. I knew I could count on you.’

  I nod quickly and rub the aching spot on my arm where his fingers pressed into me. He studies my face for a moment and then gives me a beaming, radiant smile. ‘Good girl. I knew you’d listen. I always loved that about you the most. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your car.’

  As we walk, I cast my mind back. Was Bryce always this way, and I just didn’t see it? I sneak a sideways glance at him. He catches it and smiles.

  ‘You look just as beautiful as ever, you know.’

  I force a smile. ‘Thanks, Bryce.’

  ‘You know, when you left, I just…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he says with a shrug. ‘It was like you took all the sunlight with you, Junie, and all I could see were dark clouds.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him, quietly scanning the park for anyone who might come running if I were to scream. ‘But you have Charlotte now, right? She’s nice.’

  He nods and shrugs. ‘She’s not you.’

  ‘Well, that might be a good thing,’ I say with a laugh, to try and ease the tension.

  ‘I wanted to hurt you so much when you left, Junie,’ he says, his jaw tightening. ‘So much.’

  ‘Bryce… what?’

  ‘The idea that you could do something like that. Just leave the way you did.’ He looks me over and shakes his head. ‘I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me.’

  The hair along the back of my neck prickles. My car is only a few metres away. If I ran, I could almost make it before he caught up.

  ‘That’s the only reason I started dating Charlotte. I hoped someone would tell you. I know you always hated her.’ He laughs, an embarrassed look on his face. ‘Did you even care?’

  I feign a sigh of relief and shrug. ‘Charlotte the harlot? All she ever did through high school was flirt with you in front of me. What do you think?’

  He laughs, and it’s the one I recognise. ‘It was always you, Junie.’ He pauses. ‘Still is, if I’m being honest.’

  We reach my car, and I pull the keys out of my bag. ‘It was nice to see you, Bryce,’ I lie. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what I did. Leaving town like that. Like I said, it was never to hurt you.’

  He shrugs and glances away. ‘You’re here now. That’s something.’ When he looks back at me, it’s with an intensity I can’t remember ever seeing before.

  ‘We’ll talk soon,’ I say, making my way around to the driver’s side door. ‘I’ll message you.’

  ‘You better,’ he says, slapping the roof of my car twice with his palm. ‘I’ll be waiting.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Britt

  THE discovery of two dead teenage girls in less than a week has the entire town on edge. You can feel it when you walk down the street. There’s an energy in the air, cracking and buzzing like something's about to explode. It’s all anyone can talk about. They whisper at the checkout in the IGA and speculate over coffee at the Sweetie. The rumour mill is running wild. Every detail of Lilly’s life dug up and spread out in the sun for all to see.

  Then there’s the vultures.

  Yesterday, three different reporters with camera crews came barging into work, hurling questions and trying to get me to go on camera. Eventually, I locked myself in the bathroom and called Nate to come and cover for me.

  All the locals still think Lilly wandered off and died from exposure, but the blow-ins from the city are trying to link her death to Hazel Smith, the First Nations girl found out on Willow’s Crossing.

  Did Lilly and Hazel know each other? Were they friends? Did they hang out in the same circles?

  Their stupid questions are all the same. They have no clue how Wildling works. First, there’s the farming community. They live on sprawling acreages on the outskirts of town, running beef cattle and Merino sheep. How well they do usually depends on the weather. The drought we had a couple of years ago threatened a few of them with bankruptcy, same as that time it wouldn’t stop raining for months on end. Of everyone, they have the most say about what happens in Wildling, and they’re rich compared to the rest of us. There's a few average folk scattered in pretty houses here and there along the river and at the base of the mountains, but most of Wildling is divided into two sections. Hazel lived on the local mission, a tiny settlement on the river about three kilometres south of town. I’d seen her at school, but she never mixed with any of the white kids. Lilly lived to the north, about the same distance away, in an area the farming kids call the slums. The houses there aren’t government-owned, but most of the people who live there are either single parents renting, old people who still live in run-down places they bought back in the ’70s, or graziers who went broke and have no place else to go.

  One to the north. One to the south. And never the twain shall meet.

  I learned that in high school and say it a lot about this town. The place is so divided. It’s like Wildling is a huge rock in the middle of a river, splitting the current in two, each side rushing away from the other. Beats me why. Water is water, and people are people. All comes from the same place, but there's no way Lilly and Hazel would have ever been friends.

  When someone knocks on the front door, I get up off my bed and pad over to the doorway to listen. It’s probably another vulture. Mum knows to turn them away. For now, Juniper hasn’t asked me anything, but I know it’s only a matter of time. She won’t be able to help herself.

  ‘Britt, there’s someone here to see you,’ Mum calls out. ‘It’s not a reporter.’

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Can you just come out here, please?’

  I let out a long sigh. The last thing I feel like doing is talking to someone, but reluctantly, I tighten my ponytail and shuffle off down the hall. When I get to the living room, Mia Thomas is sitting on the couch.

  ‘Mia,’ I say, slightly taken aback that she would just turn up at my house. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘And don’t go anywhere,’ Mum interrupts before she can answer. ‘Your sister will be back from town in an hour. I want the two of you to spend some time together, please.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Can’t. I have work this arvo.’

  After a way-too-dramatic eye roll, my mum finally leaves the room, and Mia looks at me. ‘Can we talk? I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you.’

  I nod, and she follows me out the back. The yard is freshly mown, and Dad has swept all the autumn leaves off the veranda – more signs that Juniper's back.

  We sit down at the picnic table where my family always had Sunday night barbecues, and I wait for her to speak. It doesn’t take long.

  ‘Herm wasn’t the father,’ she says, not bothering to make small talk. ‘He couldn’t be. Physically, I mean.’

  ‘You don’t beat around the bush, do you?’

  She shrugs and looks at me unapologetically. Any time I’ve ever seen Mia, she’s had her dog with her. It’s strange to see her sitting across from me alone, almost like one of her limbs is missing.

  ‘Where’s your dog?’

  ‘He’s at home,’ she says, gazing down at the space beside her. ‘I wasn’t sure if I could bring him here, so…’