Kensy heard the clock downstairs strike midnight when she pushed back the covers and snuck out of the bedroom. She’d been fighting sleep for ages, reading one of Ellery’s Nancy Drew mysteries under the covers with a torch she’d found in the beside cabinet. Unfortunately, she hadn’t managed a minute alone with Max all evening. The families had enjoyed a barbecue dinner in the pavilion and some lively games of tennis before the children watched a movie together. On their way to bed, the twins had made a plan to meet when everyone was asleep.

Kensy tiptoed along the hallway, hoping that the old house wasn’t going to give her up with an inevitable squeaky floorboard. She had almost made it to the staircase when she heard a heated exchange coming from Dash and Tinsley’s bedroom.

‘I think you need to tell the police,’ Tinsley said. ‘They can get his DNA and test it against the sample they got from under my fingernails.’

‘You’re being hysterical. I really don’t think there’s any chance it was him, but of course I’ll call the commissioner when we get back to Sydney,’ Dash said. ‘You’re going to feel pretty awful, darling, when you realise you’re accusing an innocent man.’

Kensy heard Tinsley sigh right before their bedroom door swung open. She rolled under a side table, pressing herself flat against the wall as Dash strode past and trotted downstairs. Kensy waited two full minutes before emerging from her hiding spot, reasoning that she could always claim to be fetching a glass of water if she got caught.

Keeping an eye out for Dash, Kensy hot-footed it into the family room. ‘Max,’ she whispered. Her feet almost left the ground when he sat up on the couch.

‘What took you?’ he hissed. After Kensy explained the hold-up, she was about to tell him how she’d bungled their parents’ message when they heard a voice in the hall.

‘Max, are you down here?’ Van whispered loudly.

Kensy groaned in frustration. ‘Seriously?’

‘Come on,’ Max said, grabbing her arm. They hurried into the back hallway, past a wall of framed family photographs. Something caught Max’s eye and he stopped. He tugged at her pyjama top and pointed to a picture of a young Uncle Rupert with a woman. They were standing together, looking very much in love.

Kensy peered at the photo. ‘Who’s that?’ she whispered as Van came through the other door. Max took her hand and they scurried down the front hall, soon realising there was nowhere to go.

‘Max!’ Van hissed. ‘I need to talk to you … about Kensy.’

‘Urgh!’ Kensy pulled a face and shook her head. She opened the door to the powder room and pushed Max inside, closing the door quietly behind them. She was about to explain how she’d messed up everything when they heard Dash’s voice loud and clear. It was one of those weird acoustic chambers, where the speaker on the other side of the wall sounded as if they were standing in the same room.

‘Tinsley’s fine, Mother. She’s much happier,’ Dash said. ‘No, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about anymore. She won’t be going anywhere.’

Kensy nudged her brother much harder than she’d intended, and the boy let out a yelp. Max glared at her. ‘Are you trying to get caught?’ he hissed.

‘Sorry, Mum, I have to go,’ Dash said.

The twins heard his footsteps in the hall. They were waiting for the doorhandle to turn when he walked back into the study and made another call.

‘Five biohazard transport boxes. Nine o’clock Monday morning at the farm,’ he said, then scoffed as if whoever was on the other end of the line had said something amusing. ‘If they want to play hard ball then they really don’t know who they’re dealing with. Don’t be late. I need to get back to the city before midday.’

Kensy was about to tell Max about the note when the floor outside their door squeaked loudly. They heard footsteps and the sound of a door opening.

‘Van, what are you doing down here?’ Dash asked.

‘Max is missing,’ the boy replied. ‘I can’t find him anywhere.’

Kensy grabbed the doorhandle in case someone tried to open it. Unexpectedly, it came away in her hand and fell with a clatter to the floor. ‘Oops!’ she mouthed.

‘Max, is that you?’ Van said, turning the handle from the outside. He opened it to find the boy sitting on the toilet seat, looking dazed. ‘Max,’ Van said, waving a hand in front of the lad’s face.

‘He’s been sleepwalking.’ Dash chuckled. He swung Max over his shoulder. ‘Come on, mate, let’s get you back to bed. And remind me to fix that wretched handle tomorrow, Van.’

As they spun around in the hallway, Max’s eyes fluttered open and looked towards the corner of the ceiling where Kensy had wedged herself between two walls. She was almost in a full splits position, trembling from the effort, and had no idea how much longer she could hold it. When Van closed the door, she landed as softly as she could on the tiles.

Kensy sat on the floor with her back against the wall for the next hour, running through the periodic table of elements over and over in her head in an effort to stay awake. When the clock struck one, Kensy crept along the back hall and was surprised to see Fitz poke his head out of the downstairs guest room to wish her goodnight. She was too tired to do anything but wave. Back upstairs, Kensy stood outside Max and Van’s room. Both boys were snoring. She’d have to wait until tomorrow to tell Max about the message.