Nel clicked back to her personal details.Sophie was thirty-five, the same age as Lauren.The address listed was 21 Cliff Street, which Google Maps located on the south side of Deception Bay where there had previously been bushland.Streetview showed a sprawling Hamptons-style mansion behind a picket fence and a concrete driveway.
Lauren must be right about Warner Property.Nel tried to imagine Ryan living there, but in her mind he was still a cocky nineteen-year-old with a Holden station wagon and an inflated opinion of himself.She needed to get a sense of him now.She typed his name into Google, along with ‘real estate’, and clicked on his Facebook business page.
When the page loaded she inhaled sharply, unprepared for the sight of his smug face.He sat on a cream outdoor sofa with Millers Beach in the background.He’d thickened up and sported well-groomed stubble and a collared shirt, but the smirk was a bang-on match for the one on the face of the nineteen-year-old in her mind.
She scrolled down.There he was again, posing in front of a SOLD sign, flanked by an elderly couple clutching a champagne bottle.‘Sea-changers from Sydney’, according to the caption.Next was a testimonial from another satisfied client, his accompanying text peppered with words like ‘humbled’ and ‘honoured’ and ‘grateful to be of service’.
The next post was a Canva creation, a photo of a rainbow over Deception Bay with a quote:You have to look through the rain to see the rainbow.Caption:#motivationmonday.
Nel groaned, thinking it couldn’t get any worse, but then she saw the next photo.Ryan had one shirtsleeve rolled up and a tourniquetaround his upper arm as he gave blood.The caption read,Giving back.Jesus.
She clicked the tab shut.If you asked AI to design an upstanding small-town real estate agent, he would look just like Ryan Warner.
And yet.
Nel closed her eyes and pictured Sophie’s face, wincing in pain, replaying their conversation, trying to recall her exact words.
I can handle it.
That was what she’d said.It wasn’t a denial.It was almost a confirmation.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter 12
Sophie gazed out the kitchen window as sausages sizzled in the frying pan, her eyes tracking the looping path of a sea eagle that soared above the cliff’s edge under a lilac sky.In the distance she could see the lighthouse, its powerful beam sweeping across the surface of the ocean, gaining strength as night fell.It was mesmerising, this view.She often found herself lost in it, staring across the ocean, watching the sweep of light then waiting for it to come again.There was something soothing about its absolute predictability.
She reached for the tongs to turn the sausages and shuddered, nauseated by the slick of grease in the pan, the smell of fat.She took a breath through her mouth, trying to settle her stomach.She’d felt a bit off all day, but worse since Harvey’s appointment.
She recalled the moment Nel had noticed her flinch and asked about her wrist.Did Nel know who she was?Her link to Ryan?Sophie sensed she hadn’t made the connection.
Her pulse quickened as a car engine hummed on the street outside, but it passed by and disappeared down the street.Not Ryan.
She was on edge.There had been a few good days after the bar stool incident, but the energy had started to shift.Her body always sensed it first.Ryan had been irritable that morning—swearing under his breath when he spilled his protein shake—so she hadn’tasked him about taking Harvey to the doctor, but now it felt like she’d gone behind his back.Done something deceptive.That’s how he would see it anyway.
She startled as the front door slammed and Jasmine stormed into the kitchen, her eyes shining with indignant tears.
‘Charlie’s cheating!Every time he gets out he says it doesn’t count!’
‘It’s almost dark anyway, Jaz.’Sophie looked at the clock on the wall.‘Can you clear the table, please?’
Jasmine was gathering her dragon drawings into a neat pile as Charlie bustled into the kitchen and threw open the fridge door.
‘I’m starving!’he said.
Sophie pushed it closed.‘Dinner’s nearly ready.’
He groaned and peered into the frying pan.‘Sausages!I hate sausages!’
‘Who hates sausages?’Jaz wondered aloud.
‘Shut up, idiot!’Charlie gave her a shove as he left the kitchen.
‘You need to have a shower, Charlie,’ Sophie called after him.
Her skin prickled all over as Ryan’s SUV growled up the driveway.She took a deliberate breath, listening to the car door closing, then footsteps, bracing herself for the slam of the front door.She still jumped when it came.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered under his breath.‘Shit everywhere.’
