‘Are you serious?’ Elise’s voice shook, but she tried to make it sound like anger rather than fear. ‘The Games start on Saturday. I need a full night’s sleep, to prepare.’

  ‘Sorry for the inconvenience. Can we come in?’

  If Elise said no, that was a fail. ‘Make it quick,’ she said.

  The agents entered the apartment. The man flicked on some more lights, looking around at the sparse furnishings. ‘You’re alone?’

  ‘Yes. Can we just do this?’ She faked a yawn. Neither of the agents yawned in response. It was like they were aliens.

  ‘This is a random test,’ the woman said. ‘You know how it works?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Elise had done these before. But not lately. Not since she’d started visiting Dr Mickleham.

  The woman opened the ziplock bag and pulled out a sample cup. ‘Are you ready?’

  Elise had gone to the toilet just two hours earlier. But if she said no, the agents would just sit there on her couch for however long it took.

  ‘Can I drink some water?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure.’

  The agents followed her into the kitchenette, unwilling to let her out of their sight. Neither of them said anything as she filled a tumbler with water and gulped it down.

  ‘You guys don’t do small talk, huh?’

  The woman didn’t smile. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Yep.’ Elise thought she could force it.

  The man sat right on the edge of the couch, as though he’d never seen one before and wasn’t quite sure how it worked. The woman went with Elise into the bathroom, closed the door and held out the sample cup.

  Elise took it. She told herself there was nothing to worry about. Her blood would have suspiciously high levels of oxygen, but her urine should be fine.

  She waited for the woman to turn away, then remembered she wasn’t going to. Grimacing, Elise pulled down her pyjama pants and undies and sat on the toilet, holding the cup in the porcelain bowl. The woman stared right at her, making sure she wasn’t squeezing someone else’s piss out of a hidden pouch somewhere.

  Not that there was anything to see. An expectant silence filled the bathroom.

  For the first time, Elise saw a glimmer of sympathy in the woman’s expression. ‘Not ready yet?’

  It was hard enough, peeing with someone watching. Harder still with a mostly empty bladder, and with the fear that she was wrong, that the urine would somehow show what she’d done. ‘Just give me a sec.’

  ‘It needs to be a testable amount. Might be better off waiting.’

  ‘Hang on.’ Finally Elise got a trickle going. She clenched and managed to fill the whole cup. Her hands shook as she screwed the cap on, nearly spilling it all.

  ‘You right?’ The sympathy was gone from the woman’s expression now. She looked suspicious. Elise guessed she had met plenty of cheats in her career—that she knew guilt when she saw it.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Elise held out the cup with both hands, as though it was a bribe. Please accept this.

  The woman took it with latex-gloved fingers and put it in the ziplock bag. ‘Do you have anything to tell me?’

  Elise held her gaze. Told herself that a urine sample wouldn’t—couldn’t—give her away.

  ‘I just want to go back to bed,’ she said. ‘Are we done here?’

  It wasn’t until she closed the front door, locking the agents out, that she collapsed to the floor, shivering. Her stomach churned. She held down the vomit with pure willpower. If she let her digestive system shift into reverse gear, it would take almost a full day to get back to her peak. And she had to be at training in four hours.

  She wanted a transfusion, to smooth out her jitters and clear her head. But it was way too soon. The doctor had said she couldn’t take them too close together. Her heart wouldn’t be able to handle it, especially since she had a family history of heart disease.

  Elise wondered if this whole thing scared the other girls as much as it did her. She crawled to the bed, lay facedown and screamed into the pillow.

  CHAPTER 32

  The hatch opens, and the light blinds Elise. She snorts awake. ‘Fnyah?’

  ‘Up you get,’ says a stern voice from above. Stephanie.

  Elise can’t believe she got any sleep at all. She remembers lying awake for hours, her dark thoughts trapped in a loop.

  If Heidi and Jason aren’t real, then what else has Callum lied about? He told her he was abducted from a car park, then changed his story and said he came here to help a fellow teacher, without even looking up her profile first. He seemed devastated by Moon’s death, but claimed he’d hardly known her. It all sounded true at the time, but now none of it does.

  What if Stephanie is right? What if Callum raped a fifteen-year-old girl?

  Stephanie calls down, ‘Just you, Tina.’

  Callum is crouched behind the low wall, like a soldier afraid of going over the top. Elise makes a calming gesture at him, then says, ‘I’m coming.’

  Still waking up, she mentally walks through the routine of going out—need my keys, my wallet, my phone, my glasses, gotta brush my teeth, make a cup of coffee for the road. Then she realises she doesn’t have any of those things. The fact she reached for them means that, subconsciously, this place is becoming her home.

  She goes to splash some water on her eyes, then remembers that water is precious down here. Instead she slaps herself in the face, like a man applying aftershave, and climbs the ladder.

  Stephanie looks as clean and well rested as Elise is exhausted. Her clothes are pressed, her hair has been washed, and her eyes are bright. It’s as if she’s Dorian Grey, and Elise is the portrait in the attic.

  Stephanie closes the hatch. ‘Come,’ she says, like she’s speaking to a dog.

  Elise feels a fresh stab of fear for Guppy, trapped in her house, and surely out of food and water by now. ‘Can you feed my dog?’ she says suddenly.

  Stephanie looks confused and annoyed. ‘What?’

  ‘My dog. He has no food or water. I’m worried about him.’ Going to the house might lead Stephanie to Elise’s real name. But it’s worth the risk, especially now that Elise’s plan has imploded. She can’t prove Callum’s innocence if he’s not innocent.

  ‘You’re trying to trick me,’ Stephanie says. ‘You have a security camera, or—’

  ‘There’s nothing like that, I swear.’

  The woman turns away. ‘The sooner you do your job, the sooner you can go back to your dog. Do you have any proof yet?’

  Elise follows her through the garden. ‘Please. He must be so thirsty.’

  ‘So that’s a no?’

  Elise grits her teeth. It makes sense that a sheep farmer would have learned not to be sentimental about animals, but most people care about dogs.

  ‘No proof?’ Stephanie prompts.

  ‘It hasn’t been forty-eight hours yet.’

  ‘True, but I thought you would have made some progress.’

  When they reach the back veranda, Elise sees a steaming teapot and two cups in saucers set up on the little glass-topped table. Apparently they’re meeting outside today.

  Stephanie eases herself down into a rocking chair and pours the tea. ‘Tell me where you’re up to.’

  Elise sits on the edge of a nearby bench seat and picks up a teacup, grateful for the warmth. ‘I’ve questioned him,’ she says, trying to sound like a PI.

  ‘And?’

  ‘So far, I’ve found out that Callum had a girlfriend named Heidi, with an eight-year-old son. She was going through a trial separation from a man named Derek. Not sure if he’s the boy’s father. No last names yet.’ Elise says all this as though it’s established fact. As though she hasn’t spent all night counting the holes in this story.

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Callum and Heidi were trying to keep the affair on the down low, because of Derek and the kid. The secrecy around the relationship could have led to the rumour about Moon.’

  Stephanie’s expression darkens. ‘It wasn’t just a rumour.’

  ‘Moon was definitely seeing someone,’ Elise says quickly. ‘But it may not have been Callum. It seems more likely to have been one of the boys in the year above hers.’ She stops herself from mentioning the other Callum by name. It’s unfair to put him in danger, now that she knows her brother is the guilty one.

  Then she wonders if the other Callum exists at all. Her brother could have made him up, too.

  There’s a long pause. Then Stephanie hurls her teacup at the wall of the house. The fine china bursts apart against the bricks. ‘You were supposed to prove he’s guilty,’ she snaps. ‘It sounds like you’re trying to exonerate him.’

  ‘I’m trying to find the truth.’ Elise stalls with a sip from her own cup. ‘If all you want is a coerced confession from an innocent man, then you can get that without my help.’

  Stephanie licks her bared teeth, like a nervous dingo.

  ‘Except you can’t, can you?’ Elise holds Stephanie’s gaze. ‘You’ve imprisoned him, starved him and tortured him, and still he’s sticking to his story. In my experience, guilty men don’t do that. In fact, the opposite is true—people often admit to things they haven’t done.’

  She has no experience. But the statement sounds true, and it catches in her mind. Why hasn’t Callum tried begging for mercy?

  ‘He drove here thinking he’d find a helpless teenage girl,’ Stephanie growls.

  ‘Did you specify the girl’s age?’ Elise prays that Callum thought through this part of his story, even if it’s a lie. ‘He claims he was coming to visit the teacher of a Year Nine class, who was struggling to explain anatomy to her students.’

  ‘I filled the fake profile with pictures of—’

  ‘Pictures Callum may not have seen. We don’t know if he looked at the profile, and he may only have skimmed the messages.’ She stresses the we, still trying to pretend to be on the same side as the dangerous woman.

  Stephanie clenches her jaw. ‘If this is the best you can do, I don’t know how you make a living as an investigator.’

  ‘I’m trapped here.’ Elise finds herself oddly defensive about her fictitious career. ‘But you’re not. You can track down this girlfriend, see if that part of his story holds up.’

  ‘It’s bullshit.’

  ‘I’m not saying he’s innocent. I’m saying we have no strong evidence either way. If you want proof, you’re not going to get it by torturing him. You have to actually get out there and look.’

  Elise holds her breath. It will take Stephanie at least a few days to track down every Heidi in Warrigal and work out that none of them has an ex called Derek or a son named Jamie. But then what?

  ‘Fine,’ Stephanie says at last. ‘I’ll do some digging. But keep pushing him. I’m ninety-nine per cent sure Callum is guilty. I’m sure you can trick him into confessing, if you try.’

  ‘You have my word,’ Elise lies.

  As they walk back towards the septic tank, the words keep echoing through her mind.

  Ninety-nine per cent.

  Not a hundred anymore. She’s making progress. But can she really convince Stephanie that Callum is innocent, when she’s no longer sure of it herself?

  Stephanie unlocks the hatch and heaves it open. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow,’ she says darkly.

  Elise climbs down into the hole.

  CHAPTER 33

  Callum has dragged the fleeces and buckets to the edges of the room, and swept away some of the empty cereal boxes and bottles. He’s shivering, pale and gaunt. Hollow around the eyes. It reminds Elise of that time he got food poisoning at a party and vomited all night. He promised Mum and Dad that he hadn’t been drinking—he’d just eaten a pizza that got left out in the sun. They believed him. Elise did too. Even after she smelled the vodka on his clothes, she assumed someone must have spilled something on him. Because he didn’t drink, and he wouldn’t lie to her, would he?

  Throughout Elise’s life, whenever she saw evidence that Callum had done anything wrong, she always ran from it. But down here, there’s nowhere to go.

  Elise steps off the bottom rung to the concrete floor, and sinks to her knees. Stephanie slams the hatch shut. Her footsteps crunch away.

  ‘Where’s she going?’ Callum asks.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘She said she’s coming back tomorrow. Where’s she going?’

  Elise can’t even look at him. ‘To get some more clues about what you did.’

  ‘I didn’t do it.’

  ‘You told me that already.’

  Her brother is silent for a long moment. Almost long enough for her to forget he’s there.

  Maybe he’s not. Maybe the brother she thought she knew never existed.

  She braces one foot against the low wall, stretching. ‘I’ve put some doubt in Stephanie’s mind. She’s looking for Heidi. But when she finds out there’s no such person, I don’t know what she’ll do.’

  Callum opens his mouth, then closes it.

  ‘What?’ Elise stands up. ‘You have something to say? Another excuse? Some plausible reason that she’ll find nothing? Here, let me help you. Maybe Heidi told you she was about to move to another town with her son, Jason. Or was it Jamie?’

  ‘Leesy—’ Callum begins.

  Elise lunges at him. The movement catches them both by surprise. Callum doesn’t get his arms up in time, and suddenly Elise’s hands are around his throat, squeezing. His eyes bug out. He makes a choked gurgling sound as he squirms.

  ‘How could you?’ she screams. ‘How could you?’

  Mum shouted the same thing at Elise after she was sent home from the Games. Saying the words brings the moment back—the heat of the front porch, the sick hollow in her belly, her inability to look up from her scuffed runners. The shame of what she’d done, the fear of what might come next.

  Callum probably shares those feelings now. Elise releases his neck and shoves him away. Then she scrambles backwards to the ladder, as far from him as she can get.

  She’s never felt so horribly alone. Everyone else has given up on her. Her friends, her co-workers, her girlfriend, her father. The only person who stuck by her was her brother. And he’s … he’s a …

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Callum says.

  An admission, at last. Elise hadn’t realised that part of her still believed him until she felt her heart break.

  ‘You’re sorry.’ She slowly rolls onto her side, the cold cement against her ribs, and closes her eyes. The air in her lungs dries up. She can’t find a reason to take another breath. What if she chooses not to? Can you die by choosing not to breathe?

  Apparently not. The air seeps back in, somehow.

  ‘Stephanie’s going to kill us,’ Elise whispers. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me the truth?’

  ‘I … I couldn’t.’ His voice wobbles. ‘I’d been down here alone for so long. I thought that if you knew, you’d hate me. I couldn’t take it.’

  He’s right. She does hate him. ‘That girl was fifteen, Cal.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And she died.’

  ‘I know.’

  The silence is suffocating.

  ‘I loved her.’ His voice is thick with tears. ‘But I told her I didn’t, because I knew we couldn’t be together. It was wrong, for so many reasons. I thought, she’s young. She’ll get over it. And then she …’ He swallows. ‘I couldn’t even grieve for her. Not properly. I couldn’t tell anyone how much she meant to me.’

  Elise squeezes her eyes shut and plugs her ears with her fingers. She doesn’t want to hear anything that might tempt her to forgive him. What he’s done is unforgivable.

  The silence inside her head is deafening. She stares at the back of her closed eyelids for God knows how long.

  She wishes Kiara were here—or rather, wishes she were wherever Kiara is. Elise would give anything. She would cling to Kiara and never let her go. You’re the best person I ever knew, she thinks. Please, take me back.

  When she eventually removes her fingers from her ears, Callum has stopped talking. She turns to look at him. He’s sitting on the low wall, watching her.

  ‘What?’ she says.

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’

  She lets out a laugh that’s more like a cough. ‘That’s still your theory? That I made a deal?’

  ‘You strangled me a minute ago,’ he points out.

  ‘Yeah.’ She refuses to apologise.

  ‘That’s why she said she’d be back tomorrow, right? To check that I was dead.’

  ‘Not this time. I told you: she wants me to prove your guilt, so she can kill you.’

  ‘Oh. Yay.’ He still doesn’t look like he believes her. He’s a dirtbag, like the bundle of fertiliser next to his feet. She finds herself glaring at it, surprised the rage in her eyes doesn’t set it alight. She’d welcome that. The blaze would consume them both, along with anything else not made of concrete or wool—

  ‘Leesy,’ Callum begins.

  ‘Shut up.’ She chews her lip.

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Shut up! I’m thinking.’ She picks up one of the empty cereal boxes and takes it over to the ladder. Puts it on a rung and leans it against the wall.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Ignoring him, she looks from the box to the hatch to the fertiliser, then back to the box. She drums her fingertips on the sides of the ladder, considering her plan from every angle. There are weaknesses, but she’s sure she can overcome them.

  ‘I have an idea,’ she says finally.

  ‘What kind of idea?’

  ‘A way to get us out of here.’

  Callum’s mouth falls open. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. But after that, I don’t have a brother, and you don’t have a sister. Got that? We’re done.’

  He swallows. ‘I said I was sorry.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  Apologies have always come easily to him. When they were kids, he discovered that ‘sorry’ was the magic word, the one that always got him out of trouble. Whereas Elise would always rather take the punishment than admit she was wrong.

  ‘Deal,’ he says, after only a second of hesitation.

  She’s almost offended. ‘I wasn’t offering,’ she says, and starts searching the septic tank for something made of metal.

 

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