‘Dinner’s ready. I’ve fed Rusty, but do you want yours here or in the dining room?’

In here, she thought, but then maybe he had it with him. Maybe if she said the word the door would open.

‘In the dining room,’ she squeaked.

‘You want a hand out of the bath?’

‘No!’

She heard him chuckle. ‘Hey, I’m a doctor, remember? I’m used to human bodies.’

‘You’re not my doctor, and you’re not used to this one. Go away.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said and there was silence-and she pulled herself awkwardly out of the bath and thought maybe, just maybe, she should have let him in.

Maybe she even wanted to.

Maybe she was losing her mind.

The meal was served on the terrace. Tori left Rusty on her bed, watching the door-of course-and made her way cautiously through the dining room and outside. And paused.

She could see the whole world.

The valley meandered downhill, following the ancient river path. Far in the distance she could see the faint, flickering lights of the city at dusk, but the foreground was simple, natural beauty.

The dusk wasn’t so deep that she couldn’t see vines around the house, lines and lines, reaching into the distance. Gum trees followed the river-massive eucalypts with wide, spreading branches. For Tori, who’d lived with blackened skeletons for so long, the sight was enough to make her gasp.

‘We thought you might have gone down the drain.’

It was Jake, rising to greet her. As well as Jake there was Rob and two tiny, wrinkled women, smiling a welcome. One of the women had her arm in a sling. She looked pale and strained, and she held her arm as if it hurt. The other looked a little better but not much. Her forehead was badly scarred, and she was glancing nervously at her companion as if she was deeply worried about her. Fire victims both. Six months raw.