Herm nods, and I catch him stealing another glance at me. ‘Just seemed like maybe…’

  ‘…like maybe what?’

  ‘Like maybe he caught wind of something back there.’

  Without meaning to, I swallow hard and immediately hope he doesn’t notice. ‘Nope. Not that I saw. Like I said, he’s a dog. He barks and gets excited at the strangest things. In fact, there was this one time my neighbour’s cat had the most disgusting diarrhoea and he actually—’

  ‘That’s… that’s okay, Mia,’ Herm says, holding up his hand. ‘I just wanted to be clear that Willow’s Crossing is private property. You can’t go traipsing around without Jack’s permission and without letting me know. So don’t go getting any ideas about heading back out there. Understood?’

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about, Herm. She knows,’ Daley tells him. ‘Right, Mia?’

  Daley turns his head just far enough for me to see the profile of his face. Tight jaw. Stern chin.

  ‘Right,’ I reply. ‘Like I said, Koda’s Koda. I’d know if he alerted to a scent. He didn’t.’

  Herm’s shoulders visibly relax, and he twists around to face me. ‘Well, all right then. And good job today, Mia. You and Koda did right by Lilly out there. Really well done.’

  His words of praise shock me, and for a moment, I almost forget all the times he hauled me into the station as a teenager. The time Mrs Henry reported me for drinking down by the basketball courts. The time I walked out of the supermarket with a Snickers bar tucked down my pants. The time he cruised by as I spray-painted my initials on the concrete curve of the skate park. But just as quickly, memories of his cold, bony fingers and flabby white skin come rushing back, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Herm is a lecher. An opportunist who shields himself behind Jack Stanton’s knees, his tentacled arms wrapped tight around the legs of a giant. It’s his way of making sure no one ever holds him accountable for the way he treats the young women of Wildling, should they be unfortunate enough to find themselves in his company.

  ‘That’s what we’re trained for,’ I tell him, moving closer to Koda. ‘It’s our job.’

  ‘Well, it was impressive. But like I said, just stick to procedure. No searches unless the police officially request your presence. They’re the rules.’

  ‘I know the rules, Herm.’

  ‘Good to hear,’ he says with a click of his tongue. ‘No doubt I’ll see you both soon.’

  Chapter Four

  THE Gold Rush Inn is buzzing. The smell of stale beer and fried food is thick in the air. Cigarette smoke seeps in from the small outdoor area, where three men and a woman huddle against an icy wind blowing in off the mountains. As Wildling’s only pub, the Goldie is where everything happens. Meetings, dinners, catch-ups, celebrations, and commiserations. Not that there’s often much to celebrate or commiserate in Wildling. It’s the kind of town where most days and weeks are the same, and everyone seems to like it that way.

  As I squeeze past a group of rowdy farmhands, I catch snippets of their banter. It’s mostly friendly teasing and exaggerated tales of glory from last weekend’s footy game, harmless fun between mates. In the background, glasses clink, people laugh, and I take a deep breath to try and steady myself. I hate being around this many people at once. I can see in their eyes that most of them don’t like me, that they think I don’t measure up. I’ve learned to read the micro-expressions – a flicker of judgement here, the quick look-away there, but it’s more than that. The space feels tight, claustrophobic, and a familiar knot of anxiety twists in my chest. The therapist in Sydney told me it was normal. That after what I went through, there would be situations that triggered me. That it was to be expected.

  That’s one of the things I love most about the national park – all that open space. Most days out there, the only sounds I hear are the calls of currawongs, chirping frogs, and water whispering over rocks. Other days, it’s so quiet I can hear the rise and fall of my own breath. Those are the days I feel stitched back together. The moments that remind me how small I am in the scheme of things. That I am a tiny blade of grass beneath a sky that saw the start of time. Despite being seven thousand square kilometres of rugged mountains, glacial lakes, and dense alpine forest, I feel safe out there. I know how to survive. To the untrained eye, nature seems unpredictable, but that’s not completely true. There are always signs, and once you know how to read them, they’ll keep you safe. Sudden temperature drops. A shift in the breeze. A change in the clouds. The park doesn’t want to hurt you. If you pay attention, it will tell you when it wants you out. People aren’t like that. Nature works off balance. People work by tipping the scales in their favour – no matter the cost.

  And they have short memories.

  Grief has always had a shelf life in Wildling, and it’s shorter than the milk at Leslie Harrigan’s IGA. Less than twenty-four hours ago, Koda and I discovered the body of a seventeen-year-old girl just metres from the Willow's Crossing boundary line, but no one is here tonight to talk about that. People have already decided she took drugs, got drunk, maybe both, then wandered into the park and froze to death. At this time of year, the temperature drops to minus four at night. It wouldn’t be the first time someone died out there from the cold.

  Such a shame. She was so young.

  That’s what I overheard Sarah Stanton saying to one of the other Country Women’s Association ladies a few minutes ago, and she probably meant it. Sarah has always seemed nice, despite being married to Jack. She’s forever trying to mend the divide between farmers, townies, and the First Nations community through talks, bake sales, and library meetings, but none of it works. Jack would never allow real change in his town. He lets her play at it because it keeps her happy and quiet, but everyone knows it’s futile. Wildling is Wildling, and not Sarah, or anyone, is ever going to change that.

  I excuse myself as I push through the crowd and find a seat at the back. Around me, the last stragglers file in. Chairs scrape against the wooden floor. Handbags drop to the ground. A woman laughs awkwardly, probably for sitting in a seat that was being held for someone else.

  ‘Thank you so much for coming out on a Thursday night,’ my brother announces as he steps onto a small platform that passes for a stage. ‘If everyone wouldn’t mind finding a seat, we can get started. I don’t want to keep you long.’

  Jason lets his arm drop to his side and gives everyone a moment to get settled. He’s always had the knack of knowing when to wait. When it’s better to let something come to him rather than to go chasing after it.

  He catches my eye and gives me a quick wink. Despite the dark denim jeans, crisp white shirt, and navy blazer, he carries the outdoors with him wherever he goes. His sun-darkened skin, perpetually wind-roughed hair, and muscular build are all proof of a life balanced perfectly between meeting rooms and the mountains.

  When the room falls silent, he raises the microphone. ‘Now, given the circumstances, before we begin, I think it’s fitting that we take a moment of silence and pay our respects to young Lilly Daniels. What happened is a tragedy, and I know you must all be feeling her loss in your own way.’

  The room falls quiet, save for the scrunch of a lolly wrapper somewhere near the front and the sharp hiss of a mother telling her kid to stop it.

  After a moment, Jason nods and raises the mic again. ‘Seeing all of you brave the cold to be here tonight certainly warms my heart,’ he begins, ‘even more than a double shot of Old Jimmy’s finest whisky. And I’m not talking about the one on the shelf, if you know what I mean.’

  As always, my brother knows how to shift the tone of a room. On cue, everyone laughs, and not for the first time, I envy how easily he can make them like him.

  ‘But seriously,’ he continues, ‘what I’m going to talk about tonight is important, so thank you for being here.’

  He pauses, giving everyone time to shake off the joke, then drops his gaze and exhales. Seeing him up there, in complete control, is a far cry from the childhood we shared. Being packed up and shipped off to live with Mimi, his sticky hand squeezing mine in the dark when I’d cry because Mum didn’t want us anymore. His whispered promises that one day we’d run away from Wildling and live in Antarctica with the penguins. As a little girl, I couldn’t think of anything worse, but if he’d asked, I would have gone. That’s the power of Jason, and I have no doubt he’ll find a way to get the town on board with what he’s about to propose.

  ‘Some of you may have heard whispers about what my company, EnviroTech, has been working on,’ he begins. ‘I know you’ve heard it’s something big, and you’re right. It is.’

  Jason paces slowly across the stage, making eye contact with everyone, drawing them in. I glance across the room in amazement as he pulls everyone under his spell. It’s as if an invisible thread runs from his hand to every person in the room, leading them wherever he wants them to go. As much as I try to deny it, as I watch him, there’s a tiny part of me, a stubborn, jealous part, that wants to leap out of my seat and violently yank at it.

  ‘Our company plans to launch a state-of-the-art geothermal drilling project in the national park before the snow gets too heavy. Now, I can already see some curious faces, so let me explain what this means and how it benefits us all.

  ‘Geothermal drilling is an innovative technology that allows us to harness energy efficiently and sustainably. Unlike traditional methods, this approach is environmentally friendly and minimally invasive, especially through winter when most of the park’s flora is dormant. I assure you, we’ve put everything into ensuring our technique respects and preserves the natural beauty of our park.’

  I scan the room as people lean in, whispering. It’s hard to catch their words, but more than once, I see eyes flick toward Jack, gauging his reaction.

  ‘Now, let’s talk benefits. First, this project will create numerous jobs, bringing new people to town and boosting our local economy. We all know how the construction of the bypass has impacted Wildling. It didn’t just redirect traffic – it redirected money. Ted, Laura… you’d know that better than anyone. How much business have you lost at Sweet Sips Café in the past eighteen months?’

  Everyone turns as the couple glance at each other. Laura nods at Ted, and he gets to his feet. ‘Business is down seventy-five percent,’ he says. ‘Haven’t turned a profit in the past six months. Makes trying to break even damned near impossible, doesn’t it love?’ He turns to Laura, and she nods and dabs at her eyes with a tissue.

  Jason looks back out over the room. ‘Seventy-five per cent. That’s a catastrophic number, and I know Ted and Laura aren’t the only ones doing it tough. This project is a chance to bring people back to Wildling. Construction workers, staff to work on the rig, and researchers to make sure we’re doing everything right. Those people will go to the café, the pub, the IGA. They’ll spend money locally. It’s not the answer, but it’s a start. Now… second, the energy produced will be clean, renewable, and reliable. That means lower costs for our homes and businesses. Imagine reducing your heating bills through winter while securing a sustainable energy source for generations.’

  In front of me, Mary Johnson nods and then quickly checks that her husband, Bert, is doing the same.

  ‘Third, we’re committed to giving back to the community. A portion of the revenue will be reinvested in town improvements. New classrooms at Wildling Public School. A water slide at the swimming pool. That kind of thing. Now, I know for the most part, Jack has held the title of town benefactor,’ he adds, pausing as the room laughs, ‘but this isn’t just about energy. It’s about enhancing our quality of life.’

  He pauses and looks people square in the eye.

  ‘I understand change can be daunting, and you’ll have questions. That’s why I’m here tonight. To listen, provide answers, and ensure this project benefits everyone. I believe this is an incredible opportunity. It’s a chance to lead the way in sustainable energy, boost our economy, and preserve the natural beauty we all cherish. I’m excited about what we can achieve together, and I’m grateful for your support.’

  Jason smiles and lowers the mic. He’s clearly expecting a barrage of questions, but instead, the room holds its breath as everyone turns to Jack, waiting to see what he’ll say.

  Chapter Five

  I SIP my coffee and tilt my head back. At this time of year, when the sky is usually washed-out and grey, the sun warming my face feels like a tiny gift. Koda is flopped down beside me, basking in a sun puddle. His eyes are closed, and it would be easy to think he’s asleep, but I know better. The occasional flick of his ear tells me he’s alert. The subtle twitch of his nose, proof that he’s still reading the world around him.

  For a town as small as Wildling, the coffee at Sweet Sips Café is unbelievably good. Creamy milk, perfectly blended with robust espresso. It’s the best coffee I’ve ever had anywhere. Not that I’ve been to many places, but I know a good coffee when I taste it.

  ‘Morning, Mia. You ready to order?’ Amelia asks, appearing with a stack of dirty plates balanced in the crook of her elbow.

  I shield my eyes and look up. Amelia is Jason’s girlfriend. Growing up, I thought no one would ever be good enough for my brother. After what we went through as kids, it comforted me to think he and I would always be a team, but the day she appeared, I knew I was wrong. My brother adores her and, if I’m honest, sometimes it bothers me just how much. It’s not jealousy. For me, it feels more like displacement.

  ‘I’ll wait for Will,’ I tell her. ‘He should be here in a minute. He got stuck on the phone again.’

  ‘Okay, no problem.’ She flashes her perfect white teeth, and I return a tight-lipped smile.

  One table over, a tiny sparrow flits about collecting crumbs. I focus on it, distracting myself, until a few minutes later, Will slides into the seat across from me.

  ‘Sorry. Usual bureaucratic bullshit.’

  ‘You’re worth waiting for,’ I say, smiling.

  Even after all these years, every time I look at him, my stomach flip-flops. Will, Jason, and I – the three musketeers. We spent our childhood together out in the park, pretending the mountains and rivers were kingdoms. Narnia one day, Neverland the next. Out there, our imaginations ran wild. We could be anything we wanted. Pirates, warriors, and sorcerers. But amid all the cloaks and changing characters, the role I always longed to play most was being his.

  Will’s clothes have changed since then. Baggy shorts and loose tees have been replaced by sharp suits and neat ties but his pillowy top lip, the angle of his jaw, and those dark eyes and the way they pull me in haven’t changed at all. Lately, though, he’s been different. Distant. Like he’s already halfway somewhere else. I know it’s work. The constant back-and-forth travel to Canberra must be exhausting, but it feels like more than that.

  ‘What’s the issue this time?’ I ask.

  He scoffs and bats my question away. ‘Just political shit. Nothing you’d be interested in, Mi. Anyway, let’s order. I’ve got to be in Canberra by nine, and it’s already seven. I’ve got twenty minutes tops.’

  I swallow the urge to ask why it suddenly feels like he’s always running away instead of toward me the way he used to.

  ‘How did it go last night at the pub?’ he continues. ‘I was out cold by the time you got home. Was Jason happy with the turnout?’

  I nod and reach for the menu. I know it by heart but holding it will stop me from fidgeting. ‘Jack didn’t push back. You know how it is. If he’s on board, the town’s on board.’

  ‘Good,’ he says, as he punches out a text on his phone. ‘I’m meeting with the Minister this afternoon. We’re getting close to an approval for the drilling rig. Shouldn’t be long now.’

  ‘Sounds like it’s going well. Jason will be happy.’

  He nods, then puts his phone down and looks over the menu at me. ‘Do you know what you want?’

  ‘We should get the Eggs Benedict,’ I suggest, hoping it might be something new we can try together. A small marker of us moving forward. ‘Amelia says they’re really good and—’

  ‘Babe, I just said I’ve got twenty minutes. Can you just order toast or something quick? I don’t have time for Eggs Benedict today.’

  I drop my gaze to the menu. ‘Sure. Sorry. Maybe on the weekend.’

  ‘Oh, shit,’ he mutters, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t tell you. I’ve got to stay down in Canberra this weekend.’

  My head snaps up and the café tilts, just slightly. ‘No, we’re going up to Crystal Lake. You promised.’

  Will puts down the menu and rubs his chin. I don’t miss the clench of his jaw as he looks at me. ‘Don’t make me feel worse than I already do, Mia. You know I’ve got a shitload on my plate. Do you think I like this? Driving back and forth to Canberra all the time?’

  ‘Will, it’s our anniversary. I understand, but—’

  ‘But nothing,’ he snaps. ‘Unless you want to move to Canberra, this is how it has to be. You want to leave the mountains? Pack up Koda and move him to the city?’

  I glance down at Koda, and he looks back at me, his tongue lolling sideways like it’s too big for his mouth. ‘No. He’d hate that.’

  ‘Right, so that’s your choice. Don’t put it back on me. We’ve been through this.’

  ‘I know, Will, but it just feels like… I don’t know. Something’s different. You haven’t even asked if I’m all right after what happened the other day. Finding Lilly like that… it was hard.’

  He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry, really, but it was inevitable that you’d find a body. Does it suck that it was a teenager? Of course, but that’s what you’re trained to do – find people who get themselves into shit. You’ve had a good run so far, but you had to know it was going to happen at some point?’ He sighs and glances away for a moment. ‘And I know things probably feel different now. Christ, I’m one step away from being the Prime Minister’s executive advisor. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. So, cut me some slack, would you? It’s not like I can spend my days playing with Koda and hiking in the mountains with you and your brother anymore.’