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On the beach we dried off as much as we could with only one towel and sodden clothes. I didn’t even feel cold but Lachlan insisted that I take his hoodie. When I slipped
it on I felt like his arms were still around me, holding me close.

‘What are you doing now?’ he asked, reaching over and brushing the hair from my face. ‘Want to go get some pizza or something?’

I did, of course, more than anything, but I remembered the mess I’d left behind at my house. ‘I’ve got to sort something out first,’ I said, and seeing the look of
concern on his face, I added hastily, ‘A family thing. I’ll just go fix that up and meet you after.’

Funny. I really thought it would all be that simple.

Lachlan hesitated and I could see him struggling with his lifesaver instincts, but finally he nodded. ‘OK. Don’t forget what you promised me, though. Stay away from
Miranda.’

I hugged him, barely believing how amazing his body felt next to mine. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I won’t go anywhere near her.’

I embedded Lachlan’s phone number in my head then watched him sprint off down the beach until he was just a tiny dot in the distance – a very, very beautiful dot. Finally I managed
to drag my eyes off him and headed for the steps that led back up to the road, replaying in my head what had happened, trying to commit every tiny detail to memory. The way his leg had brushed
against mine as we’d floated underwater together. How he’d looked at me as we resurfaced. The tiny freckle I’d noticed by his ear as his hair swirled around his face. The rise and
fall of his breath against my chest.

I suppose I was in a bit of a trance, floating along and not paying attention to anything around me. I was vaguely aware that it was getting dark by then and that I was the only person on the
beach – the joggers and die-hard all-year-round surfers had all left. And I knew that it was cold, although it didn’t seem to be affecting me.

It wasn’t until I actually reached the stairs that I saw Miranda standing there. She’d positioned herself halfway up, one hand holding each handrail, completely blocking the way. I
scanned her face, trying to guess what was going on inside her head, how much she had seen. But as usual that was impossible. The only thing that I knew for sure was that she was angry. Extremely
angry.

‘Olive,’ she said. ‘What the hell have you been doing?’

‘I’ve been swimming,’ I said.

Miranda looked over my sodden form with distaste. ‘Obviously. But why were you swimming when you were supposed to be at my place? I’ve been searching for you. For hours.’

I listened to her talking, wondering why I felt so strange. Something was missing. Something had changed. ‘Sorry. I got distracted.’

I saw her eyes fix on Lachlan’s hoodie and my heart leapt, wondering if she’d recognise it.

‘That’s your dad’s, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It’s pretty tragic that you’re wearing it. You need to forget about him, you know. He’s not coming
back.’

I bit back my grin.
She didn’t see us. She doesn’t know
. That was when I realised what was missing. My fear.

‘Come on,’ said Miranda brusquely. ‘We’ve got to go. I’ve wasted a lot of time looking for you. The party should’ve started ages ago.’

‘I’m not coming,’ I said, starting to walk away. There was another set of stairs further down the beach. I’d go that way instead.

‘So you
want
me to tell the whole world about Ami?’

I was a few metres away by then but it sounded like Miranda was right beside me, speaking straight into my ear.

‘You want everyone to know how pathetic you are?’

Up along the beach road the lights had begun flicking on.
Don’t stop walking
.
Just keep going
. That’s what Ami would’ve told me to do. But I had this sudden urge
to show Miranda that she couldn’t control me anymore. That I’d broken free of her.

‘You know what?’ I said, pushing a few strands of wet hair off my forehead. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. And I’ve realised something. Ami wouldn’t have
wanted to be used as blackmail. So go ahead. Tell everyone. Put in on the school blog if you want. Let the whole freakin world know.’

It felt good to fling Miranda’s threats back at her, even though I knew there were risks – the biggest one being how Lachlan would react when he heard. I hoped that Ami would fit
into Lachlan’s
grey
category. But I didn’t know for sure. All those butterflies I’d felt – I might never get to feel them again. But as I feasted on the shock and
disbelief on Miranda’s face, it was worth it.

That should have been the moment when I turned and walked away forever, leaving Miranda standing there alone. But Miranda’s expression shifted and there was something that made me stay
where I was.

‘It’s time,’ she said quietly. ‘Time to tell you what’s really going on.’

The wind blew across my face, making me shiver.

‘Tonight isn’t just a party, you see,’ said Miranda, flicking her hair. ‘It’s a launch – for Dal’s new album. But if you don’t want to come …’ She shrugged and began walking up the stairs. ‘It’s a pity though,’ she murmured over her shoulder, ‘considering they’re the last tracks he’ll ever
record.’

‘
What?
’ I heard myself call sharply. ‘
What
did you say?’

Miranda turned back around, with this faintly puzzled expression. ‘I said, it’s a launch party.’

‘Not that bit,’ I growled. ‘Why are these the last tracks Dallas will record?’ I was having trouble speaking. My chest heaved like I’d been running.

Miranda sighed deeply. ‘You must have noticed what a state he’s in, Olive,’ she said softly. ‘He doesn’t look after himself. Doesn’t eat. Drinks way too much
and does too many drugs. He’s …’ her voice sounded choked up, full of emotion, but her eyes were steady, and they were watching me carefully. ‘He’s not going to be with
us much longer. I thought you might want to see him one last time – especially considering how you’ve always felt about him.’

All the moisture instantly vanished from my mouth. My legs, which had felt so strong just before, now threatened to fold up beneath me.
It’s just a threat.
Another attempt to bend
me to her will. Maybe. But if there was one thing I knew for sure about Miranda it was that she was capable of carrying through with threats.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll come.’

Miranda smiled. ‘Of course you will,’ she said. ‘You won’t regret it. Wait till you hear the songs, Olive. They’ll blow you away.’

Up on the beach road I saw Oona’s car parked illegally on the footpath. I stared at it dumbly. ‘Oona’s back?’

‘Of course not.’ Miranda’s voice was withering. From her pocket she produced an ancient set of keys, worn thin and smooth from use, and flicked them around her finger. ‘I
just borrowed her car.’ She walked over and opened the passenger side. The smell of disinfectant swung out at me like a punch. ‘Hurry up. Get in.’

Don’t do it.
But what choice did I have? By the time I’d found a phone and called Lachlan – the only other person who was likely to believe my story – it might be
too late for Dallas.

I’d already let Katie down. I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

The passenger seat made a crackling, scrunching noise as I sat down. I soon saw why. The car’s interior was completely covered in plastic – even the steering wheel and the gear
stick. I hadn’t even found the seatbelt when Miranda took off, the wheels screeching so loudly that I gave a yelp.

‘Was that a bit scary for you?’ said Miranda. ‘Sorry. You seem kind of
jumpy
at the moment. Not quite yourself.’ She took her eyes off the road and looked at me
intently. ‘Has anything happened, Olive? Anything I should know about?’

I dug my fingernails into the seat and kept looking straight ahead as if I could force the car to stay on the road through sheer will. ‘No,’ I muttered.

Miranda stared at me for a few more moments, then finally returned her attention to the road. The rest of the trip passed in total, deathly silence.

Oona’s house wasn’t the sort of place I thought I’d ever be glad to see. Window grilles and a massive KEEP OUT sign on the gate aren’t exactly welcoming.
But that evening, as we rounded the final twist on the curvy hill road and I saw it, I was flooded with relief. Miranda’s silence in the car had given me a chance to form some kind of plan.
My first task was to find Dallas. Then I would call Lachlan and together we’d get Dallas out.

Miranda dug out a remote control from the glove box – the only glove box I’d ever seen that was actually full of gloves – and the metal gates swung open.

She parked the car out the front, near the swimming pool, and was soon unlocking the front door. ‘Are you coming in or what?’ she called impatiently.

Strange. In all the time I’d spent with Miranda I hadn’t once been into her house. In primary school we used to say that Oona’s place was an old prison. It certainly looked
like one.
And Dallas is the prisoner,
I thought as I began walking up the steps towards Miranda.

‘I’m coming,’ I said. I said it extra-loud, hoping that Dallas might hear me and know help was on the way.

‘Welcome to the inside of Oona’s head,’ said Miranda, pushing open the door for me. I stepped inside and she followed, closing the door behind her.

The air inside the house had the same strong smell of disinfectant as Oona’s car. To the left was a hand basin, standing in the hall like a short, shiny butler. ‘If Oona were here
she would’ve made you wash your hands about fifty million times,’ said Miranda. ‘Except she wouldn’t have let you in at all, of course.’ She leant over and coughed on
each tap, then smiled spitefully before sauntering off down the hallway.

The hallway was full of obstacles. Vacuum cleaners, rubber gloves still in their packaging, dusting mittens. A box of disposable paper slippers spilled out of a cardboard box, rustling like
leaves as we walked past. Halfway down the corridor was a miniature army of hand-sanitiser bottles.

Miranda picked up a spray can of disinfectant. ‘She uses half a can on the door handles every time she goes in or out of a room,’ she said. Miranda seemed to be enjoying herself,
like she wanted me to be as unnerved as possible. ‘That’s as well as the gloves.’

In the gloom I stepped on something and almost tripped. Lying in front of a closed door was another spray can, crushed in the middle like someone had stamped on it viciously, over and over
again.

‘That’s Oona’s room,’ said Miranda, pulling me away roughly. ‘My room is over here.’