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pleading for information on her whereabouts. Hermother was crying. They figure she’s been abducted. I don’t know how you can feel safe there—”
    Don’t say it.
    “ Especially with what you’ve been through.”
    She said it.
    Ben kept quiet. Theresa did not. “And the druggings . They’ve got girls waking up in strange men’s beds and not even remembering how they got there. Ropnol , they use on them. It’s an epidemic.”
    “Rohypnol,” Mak corrected her gently. As a tranquilliser the drug was legal in sixty-four countries to treat sleeplessness, anxiety, convulsions and muscle tension, and although illegal in Canada and America, it had naturally found its way in the back door somehow. She was well aware of the reports.
    “The kind of men who roam those campuses these days…”
    Mak stared at the plain white wall beside her. If she looked really closely, she could make out her mother’s brushstrokes. She managed to completely block out the familiar voice as her sister continued to make pronouncements on the perils of Vancouver, the UBC campus and Makedde’s life in general. Mak wanted to tell her to stop encouraging their father to worry even more than he already did, but she held her tongue. Insomnia was sapping her strength, and she was too tired to argue.
    Mak looked to Breanna for wisdom. The little girl was searching the room with wide eyes, her gazemoving from her mother’s lips to her grandfather’s, then back to her mother’s, finally resting on the collar of her mom’s shirt, which she then decided to yank. Theresa gently removed the tiny hand, still continuing to talk. Makedde watched her sister’s lips move, hearing nothing.
    Suffering from what felt like a loud steam train chugging around in her head, Mak excused herself to the study, citing deadlines on her thesis. She opened the textbook to her book-marked section on Personality Disorders but couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to read anything. Before long, she lay her weary head on the textbook and slipped into a restless nap.
    She emerged at dinnertime and walked down the hallway, rubbing her eyes and taking in the smells of cooking. She turned into the dining room, looked at the dinner table and…
    Whoa.
    There was a stranger at the table—a woman—and she was chatting with her father. The woman made eye contact and said, “Hi, Makedde,” then pushed her chair out and stood, offering a handshake. “I’m Ann.”
    My God, the shrink.
    Her face was warm and intelligent, framed by short, stylishly cropped wavy auburn hair. She was a compact-looking woman who Mak guessed was in her mid-forties. Not very tall. She was dressed in slacks and aloose blouse, smart casual, with little pearl stud earrings as her only jewellery. She was even-featured and pleasant-looking, with large brown eyes and a magnetic, Julia Roberts’ smile.
    Mak shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    “Likewise,” she said. “I’ve heard lots about you.”
    I bet you have.
    Ann read her expression and added, “All good things. I hear you’re a brilliant student and quite an accomplished model.”
    Mak didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t say that she’d heard lots about Ann, because she hadn’t. Last night her father had obviously been hinting subtly that this woman was important to him, and Mak had been too paranoid and wrapped up in her own misery to make much of it. She had so quickly gone on the defensive.
    How stupid of me.
    Mak settled in at the table. Everything was already prepared. The food ready, the table set, the guests seated…
    “I’m sorry I didn’t help with anything. I passed out.” Mak let out a nervous laugh when she realised she may have inadvertently opened herself up to that unwanted topic again. “I’m in charge of clean-up,” she said.
    She watched as her father served his new friend some rice and chicken and an assortment of vegetables. Ann flashed him a smile when she thanked him, and Mak thought