Page 49 of Bay of Plenty

“The week after Janey died, I was at the dump.” She pulled out another textbook. Smoothed it with a shaky hand. “I saw her mother drop off this box. She seemed upset, angry almost, and I thought I’d keep it in case she regretted throwing it away. The time never felt right, because Janey’s mum got sick soon after. When she died two years later, I forgot about it, I suppose.”

Hope sparked in my chest. This could be something. An insight into Janey’s mind before she died, some clue to why she disappeared.

We took out six textbooks. Before us, the air pixelated into a strange and uncertain dusk. The cold clouds darkened. The only thing left in the box was a composition notebook.

I took it out and opened it.

It looked like a diary. The first handful of pages had been ripped out. Four of the remaining pages were written on. The rest were blank.

I started to scan the first page, with Mum reading over my shoulder.

Oh hell.

I checked in with Mum for her response. Mum was a slower reader, but her hand flew to her mouth. Her face drained, her body locked.

“God,” she whispered.

We read through the second, third, and fourth pages. My vision went dark, white spots pulsing around the edges. I wanted to sink to my knees, the grief was so heavy.

Instead, I picked up my phone and called Bevan and Kui to come quick. I didn’t call Janey’s dad. He couldn’t be part of this.

It was Janey’s diary. Her life was not what I’d thought.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Mum and Ihad a quick shower and changed before the other two women arrived. Mum repeated where she’d found the box and how we’d found a diary at the bottom.

“By the looks of your face, Isla, there is something very wrong,” Kui said. “Please, go ahead. Read it.”

28 November 2004, Ohope Beach

Dear Diary,

I can’t stand it another day. At school, they say to speak out about abuse, tell a trusted adult. What crap, we see where that gets you. I won’t have everyone pity me.

The only way is to get rid of him. Knock him on the head when he’s out swimming, and he’ll drown. Nah, he’ll be swept back in. The sea vomits up everything, even the bad shit like him.

Bash him on the head and push him off the cliff. Make sure he’s had a few, talk him into walking up there. He will, he’s such a creeper. I’ll make it look like suicide. They told us about suicide at school. You never know someone’s mind, they said, but just in case, I’ll leave a note. There won’tbe any evidence because it’s shark week, and his ugly body won’t last the night.

I have to leave something at the top to show he jumped off and is gone forever.

We fell into a stunned silence. We were still outside, even though a chill had set in. The pain in Janey’s words suspended everything. The trees clawed at the cliff face. The sky mashed the fragile light from the moon.

“She was planning to kill the creeper in the same way she supposedly committed suicide.” Bevan gripped her head. “What does that mean? That there was a struggle up on the cliff, and she ended up dead instead of him?”

“Who on earth is this man?” Kui’s voice splintered. She thumped her fist on the table. “I will kill him.”

She’d voiced what I’d thought—that Janey’s killer was still alive, out there. I shivered. Maybe he’d walked past us today?

Mum’s eyes pooled with tears. “Why would she keep this from her mother and father? They were such kind, approachable people. Her father… still is. It doesn’t make sense.”

We turned toward her, and her mouth dropped open. The creeper could be Mr.Saunders, and Mrs.Saunders could have known.

Breathing heavily, I turned the page and read the next entry.

29 November 2004,OhopeBeach

Dear Diary,

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