SHE COULD ONLY find one image of him on the internet, a grainy passport-style photo on page five of her Google search. Who knew there were so many men in the world called Ryan Stewart? It took Gemma a moment to recognise him, sandwiched between a balding, self-published author of middle-grade fiction and a piano teacher from Boston accused of grooming a student. The lips gave him away. Mediterranean thick, even though his family were apparently from some small, cold town in Canada. 

Gemma marvelled at how insignificant his digital footprint was. She wondered if he was dead, which made her sad and a little disappointed – in herself but also the world – that this was the most obvious explanation for his lack of social media presence.