She drags deep on a joint pinched between her fingers, then closes her eyes as she exhales. Without a word, she passes it to the man beside her. He has sinewy arms and a shaved head. A tattooed rose sprawls across the left side of his neck like it bloomed there by mistake.

  Lilly never had a chance.

  ‘Haven’t seen you since it happened,’ she says. ‘Funeral’s next Wednesday.’ The guy hands back the joint, and she takes a long drag. ‘Burying my own kid. Can you believe it?’

  I tense and close my eyes. I want to scream that all she had to do was pay attention, but there’s no point. She’s probably too stoned to even understand.

  ‘Ms Daniels— ‘

  ‘Trudi.’

  ‘Right… Trudi, um, do you know if Lilly ever hung out with that girl Hazel?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Hazel,’ I say again. ‘The First Nations girl they found out on Willow’s Crossing last week.’

  Trudi purses her lips, then shakes her head. ‘Nah, never heard about any First Nations girl,’ she says eventually, the words shrouded in smoke haze.

  ‘Did any other friends ever come here to see Lilly?’

  ‘Nope.’ She takes another long drag, then blows the smoke out in rings. ‘You want a hit?’

  It’s tempting, but that’s not why I’m here. ‘Nah, I’ll pass, but can I take a quick look around her room before I go? I think I left a sweater the last time I was here. Mum’s hassling me about it.’

  She gestures up the hall with her arm. ‘She loved you like a sister,’ I hear Trudi say as I head toward Lilly's room. ‘She really did.’

  I stop and swallow down the lump in my throat. Maybe I shouldn’t go snooping through her room. Maybe it would be better to just let her rest in peace. She certainly never found it in life.

  ‘There was one guy who came over,’ Trudi calls out. ‘Just one time. Good-looking, well-dressed kid. If she was smart, he wasn’t just a friend, if you know what I mean.’

  My pulse quickens, and I turn back. ‘Do you know who he was?’

  ‘Thought it was the Stanton boy, but she swore black and blue I had it wrong.’ Trudi flings her arm out in a dramatic gesture. ‘Called me a drunk and druggie. Told me what the hell did I know?’

  ‘Right,’ I say with a nod. ‘When was this?’

  She shrugs and drops the butt of the joint into the ashtray. ‘Don’t know. A few months ago. Four, maybe five.’

  ‘Not less?’

  She turns and stares at the man beside her. ‘Nah, he weren’t on the scene yet. You’ve been here now, what, three months?’

  ‘Somethin’ like that,’ he mumbles.

  ‘Was before that.’

  ‘Right. Well, I’ll just have a look for the sweater and be on my way then.’

  Inside Lilly’s room, I close the door and press my back against the wood. I don’t want to go through her stuff. It feels intrusive, especially now I know there were things she wanted to keep from me, but if Trudi is right and Bryce was here, there might be something in her room we can use to prove he killed her.

  ‘Sorry, Lilly,’ I whisper, as I step toward her dresser, ‘but this is Wildling, and you should have known better than to try to keep a secret in this town, especially one that includes the Stantons.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Britt

  I SWEAR I can feel her watching me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was standing over in the corner, twirling her hair and laughing as I rifle through her things. She’d love thinking she out-smarted me, that she’d hidden the answers somewhere I couldn’t find. Not in a bad way. She’d just enjoy the challenge of seeing who was craftier, her or me.

  You know what she was like, always needing to try and control everything and everyone.

  Luke’s words play back in my mind, and I wonder if subconsciously I blocked out the parts of Lilly’s personality I didn’t like. Maybe I was always so close that I only saw glimpses of her and never the whole. Her infectious laughter and disregard for the opinions of others. The way she made it feel like anything could happen at any moment. Maybe if I’d found the courage to step back a little, I would have seen the entire picture. Maybe I didn’t want to.

  ‘What am I even looking for?’ The room is empty, but as I say the words, I catch myself glancing toward the corner, still certain I can feel her there. ‘Would Bryce have written you a note? Did you print a photo?’

  I sit down on the edge of her bed and look around the room. It still smells of her – that vanilla-scented perfume she always wore. I hated how it always got up my nose, but knowing this might be the last time I ever smell it forms a lump in my throat. Being here in this room makes it hard to believe she’s really gone. There are so many pieces of her, and yet none of them can make her whole again.

  An eclectic mix of artwork and photos covers the walls. Some she drew, others she collected because they spoke to her in a way the people in Wildling couldn’t. There are photos of us drinking, smoking, and hanging out with Luke down on the grandstand at the oval. As I peer at them, it hits me that there are no normal pictures. The obligatory road trip, movie night, or high school graduation. There’s no light, only darkness. Why were we always so angry at everything?

  Her clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor, a mix of jeans, singlets and jumpers. There’s no rhyme or reason, no seasonality to it, just a mess of garments discarded as she tore through the room in a whirlwind of Lilly-ness. But amidst the mess, there are also glimpses of a different side to her, one not everyone got to see.

  On the dresser, between makeup brushes and jewellery, is an old, worn copy of Wuthering Heights. I doubt anyone in Wildling would believe Lilly Daniels read the classics, but it comes as no surprise to me she might like this book filled with passion, revenge and longing – all the things Lilly was made of. I flip through the pages and notice something handwritten on the inside cover. I recognise her loopy scrawl immediately.

  He shall never know I love him, and not because he’s handsome, but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made out of, his and mine are the same.

  I stare down at the words she’d written. Was it supposed to be about Bryce? They were nothing alike. He’s a doting son, reliable and predictable, as vanilla as that awful perfume she wore. If Lilly was the summit, he was the base, rock-solid while she reached for the sky.

  Or so it always seemed.

  A thought occurs to me, and I put the book back down on the dresser. Before I dropped out of school, we studied Wuthering Heights in English class. In it, the main character, Catherine, hid her journal in a secret panel of her bed. I walk over to Lilly’s bed and stare at it. It’s not a gothic oak bed by any means, but if she had a journal, maybe this is where I’ll find it. Not under the mattress or pillows – too obvious. I strip the bed back, throwing the sheets and blankets onto the floor. Nothing. Even though I know it won’t be there, I haul up the mattress, revealing the skeletal frame and slats, but still nothing.

  ‘I always thought we could tell each other anything, Lilly,’ I whisper. ‘I’m trying to find out who did this to you. It sure would help if you could tell me whether you kept a journal.’

  I stand still and silent, waiting for a sign. A movement. A ghostly whisper. Anything that might point me in the right direction. When none comes, I push my hands onto my hips and stare at the mess I’ve made. Somewhere in this labyrinth of clothes and sheets and Lilly could be a journal, but I have no clue where. Without her help, I have no chance of finding it. I reach up and grab the edge of the mattress to pull it back into place, and that’s when I feel it. Zipped into the mattress protector, an oblong shape the size of a small book.

  A mix of excitement and anxiety thrums through me as I take the small leather journal out and tip the mattress back onto its frame. I quickly remake the bed as best I can, then tuck the journal into my backpack and take one last look around her room. This will be the last time I’m here, surrounded by her things – by her. It will be the last time I smell her vanilla perfume or look at the photos of us up on the wall. It doesn’t escape me that it may also be the last time I think of her the way I do now. Lilly was larger than life – something I could never be, someone whose presence allowed me to uncover parts of myself I would never have the courage to find on my own. Once I read her journal, some of that might change. I’ve already lost her once. The idea of losing her again makes me ache, but I have to know, and maybe she can take me on one last ride as I try to figure out who killed her.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  BEING out in the park with Mimi had a profound impact on me. There was something about seeing her connection to the land that flicked a switch. For so long, I shunned her beliefs, but now I’m not so sure.

  Will always told me I should make more of an effort to get to know her, to appreciate her the way Jason does. A part of me was always determined not to listen because I wanted him to see the differences between my brother and me as a quality rather than a flaw. But it was always going to be a hard sell. Jason and his magnetic personality, coupled with his support of Will’s career goals, makes it almost impossible for me to compete.

  At least now, I think as I stir the vegetables, I can tell him I’ve seen the light – that just like Jason, I’m ready to get to know Mimi and open myself up to what she may have to teach me.

  Outside, his car pulls into the driveway as the first drops of rain begin to fall. Koda whines at the back door to go out, and I wonder why he always seems to time his toilet breaks to coincide with bad weather.

  ‘All right, but be quick about it,’ I tell him.

  I glance around the kitchen, making sure everything is neat and tidy. On the drive home, I decided not to tell Will about Jack’s threat – that he suspects it was me who found Hazel and called the police. Telling him will just start another fight, and I want tonight to be about making amends. I want us to get back on track before he heads to Canberra in the morning. By the time he finds out Juniper, Britt, and I have been looking into the case, we’ll have figured out who did what, and if Bryce really did kill those girls and Jack covered it up, his influence over the town will cease to matter. Even he won’t be able to talk his way out of that.

  ‘Hi, I’m making stir-fry,’ I say as he walks in and dumps his pack on the floor by the dining table. I glance at it and feel my throat catch. ‘You spent the day out in the park?’

  Before he can answer, Koda runs in and shakes, spraying rainwater all over the both of us.

  ‘Goddamn it,’ Will swears, wiping himself down and glaring at Koda. ‘Christ, Mia, can you at least get a towel?’

  My pulse quickens as I put down the tongs and hurry to fetch some towels. I’ve never known Will to look at Koda with such anger. He’s only ever showered him with love and affection.

  ‘Here you go.’ I pass him the towel and kneel to dry Koda. ‘How was your hike?’

  He pats down his pants and shirt and then drops the towel on the floor beside me. ‘It gave me some time to think.’

  Butterfly wings flutter in my chest. ‘About what?’

  ‘Everything,’ he replies. ‘Mia, we should talk.’

  My heart sinks. When you love someone, the last thing you ever want to hear them say is we should talk.

  I consider whether I should stand or sit at the table, but the ache in my chest tells me it’s probably safer to stay on the floor. ‘Sure, okay. What’s on your mind?’

  He pulls out a chair and sits down. ‘There’s really no easy way to say this. I’ve decided to move to Canberra.’

  I freeze and silently scream at myself to stay calm. It makes sense. The commute must be terrible for him, but we can work this out. I can go down there sometimes. He can come up here.

  ‘We can make that work,’ I reply, battling to keep my voice steady. ‘How do you want to go about it? Will you come back on weekends, or…’

  He takes a deep breath, avoiding my eyes. ‘No, I think we should end things,’ he says, each word hitting me like a punch to the gut. ‘It’s Jess. I’ve been seeing her for a while, and… I’m moving down there to be with her.’

  ‘But you said that wasn’t true.’ I search his face, desperate to find even the slightest crack, a tiny passage back to where we started. Back to the place where he used to love me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he continues. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t keep doing this. She’s where I need to be.’

  My fingers grip Koda’s fur, and he turns to look at me. If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he licks my cheek and moves in closer.

  ‘But we’re engaged… I thought… you said…’

  Since I was a child, I’ve gazed at Will with dream-lit eyes, imagining the life we would build together. It can’t all come crashing down. My mind scrambles for the right words. Ones that will make him stay. We have a lifetime of history. Year after year, we’ve watched the seasons change. Snow has given way to sunshine, leaves have turned gold and drifted down around our feet. Koda has grown from a puppy wriggling in our arms into a beautiful, capable search and rescue dog. We’ve held each other up, reached out in the dark, and woken wrapped in the warmth of what I believed was always. This woman, whoever she is, has known him less than a year. A handful of months can’t erase an entire life.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mi, really.’

  The fact that he calls me Mi gives me a sudden burst of hope. It feels familiar and reassuring. He’s still Will and I’m still Mia. I can fix this. I can change his mind.

  ‘Can we just talk about it?’ I ask. ‘If there’s something wrong, if I’m different somehow, I can change back.’

  He shakes his head and looks away. ‘It’s not you, Mia. I’m different. I live in a different world now.’

  ‘Then show it to me,’ I reply, inching toward his legs. ‘Let me be a part of it with you. We’ve always been a part of each other’s lives, Will. Ever since we were kids. We’ve always found a way. It’s you and me.’

  ‘I need to be in Canberra, and you belong here with Koda. Wildling is your home.’

  I force back the tears as my voice breaks. ‘You’re my home.’

  He sighs and moves his leg further away. ‘I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry.’

  Don’t beg him, I tell myself. Whatever happens, don’t do that. You’re better than that.

  I close my eyes as a barrage of images flash through my mind. I’ve never been in this house without Will. As soon as I was old enough, he rescued me from Mimi’s and we laughed and kissed, folding our clothes away in the same closet, swearing to each other that nothing would ever change. That just like the mountains and rivers, we were forever.

  My stomach folds in on itself as the sickly scent of stir-fry curdles in the air. I press my palm hard against my chest, trying to hold myself together.

  ‘Please don’t go,’ I whisper. ‘Just give me another chance. I can change. I can be more like her. Just tell me what to do. Who to be.’

  ‘Mia, stop it,’ he snaps, getting to his feet. ‘You’re better than this.’

  I know he’s right, but now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. Any boundary I had has already been crossed. ‘Please, Will,’ I beg, sliding myself forward and wrapping my arms around his legs. ‘Please don’t leave me.’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ he says, nudging me away. ‘Get up off the ground.’

  Instead, I collapse over my knees as the sound of something breaking escapes my chest.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ I hear him say with a sigh. ‘I have to go.’

  ‘No…’ I grab at his ankle as he passes by, but again he shakes me loose and swears out loud.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Mia, get your shit together. You’re embarrassing yourself.’

  I hear him walk back down the hall and into our bedroom. I know he’s gathering things to take. Things he’ll need at her place.

  I glance at Koda, and consider following him. Barricading myself across the doorway so he can’t leave. Shouting at him. Throwing things at him. Trying to hold him, kiss him, make him remember that he loves me somehow.

  At the other end of the house, the front door opens and a cold wind rushes in along the hall. If I don’t do something now, he’ll be gone. My leg flinches, ready to move, but the rest of my body feels weighted to the floor. I hear the click of the lock closing and the scream of silence that comes after.

  My face falls slack, and my eyes burn as Koda lies down next to me, his head pushing into my lap.

  I don’t know how long we sit out on the kitchen floor together, but when I finally stop crying, the rest of the house is dark and everything is still. Freezing air bites the skin of my cheek. The kitchen smells like charred smoke. It’s quiet aside from sounds of the house creaking in the wind, and Koda and I are the only two left in it.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Britt

  ALL I want to do is go home and read the journal, but of all nights, Nate has chosen now to come down with the flu. I’ve only ever worked a night shift once before. Even though this is Wildling and there’s never been a robbery in the town’s 140-year history, he still thinks it’s dangerous to have a teenage girl behind the register at night. Even more so when she’s investigating a murder.

  At least it’s quiet and I'll be able to read between customers. Under the counter, I have the biggest bag of chips I could find on the shelf, two chocolate bars and a box of tissues. I figure that covers all bases, and screw Nate if he thinks I’m paying for them. It’s the least he can do for making me come in for a night shift – and in the rain.

  I haven’t told my sister or Mia that I found the journal. I have no idea what’s inside and, loyal to the end, I want to make sure there’s nothing incriminating that could make Lilly look bad, especially when she’s not here to defend herself.