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Hana watches Jo walk over to Seth and Caleb, who are standing by the breakfast buffet, plates piled high with sticky pastries, sourcing food no one wanted but Seth insisted they get. Keep their energy up. It’s not that at all; it’s a distraction. A way to avoid processing what’s happened.

Hana can’t blame him. She can’t process it either: Bea’s dead. Bea was here, on the island, and now she’s dead. Nothing about it seems real.

“I keep going over it, Han.” Maya swivels the silver ring on her finger. “What it must have felt like, to go over that drop. When I’m climbing, sometimes I get this sensation, as if I’m about to fall. All part of the rush, but going over this, she must have been so bloody scared. ” Her voice cracks.

Hana takes her hand in hers. “I know, doesn’t bear thinking about.” Yet she is: horribly graphic images—the moment Bea fell, realized she was tumbling into nothingness. A sob rises in her chest.

“It’s not just the fall.” Maya’s eyes are tearing up too. “I don’t get it, the fact that she was here, and we didn’t know. It’s not like her to pull something like this.”

It’s true. Bea doesn’t do spontaneous, never has. Ever since she was a kid, she’s been ordered, almost to the point of obsession: pens lined up, schoolbag packed and by the door the night before.

Pulling a fresh tissue from her bag, Hana takes a breath. “But you heard what Jo said, about calling her out. Perhaps she did feel guilty, wanted to surprise us.”

“Maybe.” Maya looks unconvinced. “I...” She stops midsentence, as if she’s struggling to formulate what she wants to say.

“What is it?”

“It’s just,” she says finally, wiping her eyes, “I think someone lied, about what happened last night.”

“Lied about what?” Hana says weakly.

“About not leaving the villa.” The words come out quickly now, as if Maya’s glad to be rid of them. “Someone did leave. I heard them.”

“But everyone said—” Hana replays the moment in her mind, the negative responses to the detective’s question.

“I know. But someone left, I’m sure of it.”

“When was this?”

“About an hour or so after we got back... a quarter past twelve. I was still on my phone when I heard the door go. I looked through the window, saw someone going along the path beside the villa. I couldn’t make out their face, it was too dark.” Maya’s voice pitches higher. “But it was definitely our door that went. Someone left the villa, Han, I’m sure of it.”