My body weakens with every breath. The giant hand squeezes tighter. My thoughts fly off the grid. What was Mom trying to tell me? Sinking onto the chair, I rest my head on the table, trying to calm myself. I go back to that day, the day she said she took me. Her eyes were staring into mine, not floating around the room smiling at nothing, she was definitely focused on me. And she gripped my hand. Something she hadn’t done since she’d entered that place. I should have paid more attention. Should not have dismissed her so easily. I remember her need to talk, the words flying out of her mouth, her eyes alive, familiar even.

‘I took you, Becca. You’re not my daughter.’

I clench my hands together and look towards the sky. God, God, God, help me here. Dragging my body from the chair, I go back to the window and look out at the yard. Lightning cracks again, illuminating the white cross at the end of the yard like a super trooper highlighting the star performer. I flinch.

‘Put Rover in the ground, Danny. Rover’s gone to heaven.’

Mom was trying to tell me something about the dog. Directing me to where the dog is buried. Woof-woof. There’s only one way to find out.

Pulling up the hood of my jacket, I walk into the storm. The wind howls, rain crashing like gun pellets into my face. Pulling my jacket tighter, I make my way to the end of the yard. The storm whirls around, pure energy flying in all directions, touching everything in its path. Just like the dangerous storm inside me.

Strength comes from somewhere, dragging me to the cross at the bottom of the yard. Kneeling down, my knees sink into the softened soil. My heart too. Grabbing at the soil around the cross, hands, nails, caked in muck, I make my first hole. It quickly fills with water, so I reach for a plant pot close by and use it as a bucket. Digging, emptying, digging, emptying. The rain has drenched my whole body, seeping in through any open gap it can find. But I don’t care, I need to dig this hole, need to find out what lies beneath.