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Tara tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as the song faded into its final notes, her gaze flicking briefly to Amelia. The woman was staring into nothing, mouth hanging. Tara thought that no one in human history had ever reacted like that to Dancing Queen. Not without a head wound, anyway.

‘All this music coming out of that!’ Amelia said, pointing at the speaker in awe. ‘How?’

Tara let out a soft laugh, tilting her head. ‘You understand what the internet is, right?’

Amelia shook her head earnestly. ‘No.’

‘OK, but you know the general concept?’

Another shake of the head.

‘You’ve read the word ‘internet’?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fantastic. Well, the internet is basically… connection. One of the things it connects to is a world of information. Music is part of that world. So, this—’ Tara held up her phone, giving it a casual spin in her hand, ‘—finds it and plays it for you.’

Amelia squinted at the phone. ‘That thing again? It does so much. It must be very complicated.’

Tara shook her head. ‘Not for me. Or you, for that matter. The hard parts were handled by the people who created the thing. It’s made to be easy. Even children can figure it out.’

Amelia blinked. ‘How young are these children?’

‘My friend's four-year-old can play her favourite song on her mum’s phone without breaking a sweat.’

‘Four?’ Amelia practically shrieked.

‘You could learn,’ Tara said lightly. ‘If you wanted to. I know you’re not here long. You might not want to go down this road.’

Amelia’s brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

Tara exhaled, weighing her words. ‘It’s addictive. Technology, convenience—it hooks you. Once you’ve seen what it can do, there’s no unseeing it.’

Amelia’s gaze darted to the phone again, cautious. ‘Addictive how?’

‘It changes you. You’re always reaching for the next shortcut, the next solution. It’s a slippery slope.’

Amelia frowned. ‘But it can’t do everything and anything. It can’t, I don’t know… Chop wood?’

‘Nope,’ Tara admitted, her lips curving into a wry smile. ‘But it can find someone to do it for you—or order you a better axe.’

That pulled a laugh from Amelia. Tara watched her listen as the next song began, its upbeat rhythm filling the car. Take a Chance On Me.

Without thinking, Tara murmured, ‘Maybe I should make you a playlist.’

Wait, what? Why was she saying shit like that? Amelia wasn’t a buddy. She was a story, a puzzle to figure out.

But as Tara glanced over to watch her close her eyes while she listened to the music, it was hard not to smile.

She forced her mouth into a straight line and concentrated on the road and all there was for a moment was the sound of the seventies.

‘Why are you helping me?’ Amelia asked suddenly.

Tara blinked, surprised. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, her tone quieter than she liked. ‘Isn’t that the way it goes on Solhaven? People help each other?’

‘Yes. But I was taught it wasn’t that way on the mainland. Is that wrong?’

‘Not exactly,’ Tara admitted. ‘But people do help people they’re close to, people they like.’

There was a pause. ‘You like me?’ Amelia asked quietly.

‘Yes,’ Tara said. Once it was out of her mouth, she realised it was true.

‘I like you too,’ Amelia said evenly.

For some reason, Tara hadn’t expected that, and it made her feel… off. Trying to shake out of it, Tara straightened in her seat.

‘Right. Time to meet Geraldine Cooke.’

She pulled into the council car park and found a spot. But as she edged into the space, the disquiet didn’t leave.