The next few minutes pass in a blur. Danny is holding me again, running his hand though my mud-caked hair. I still haven’t heard him speak. Pulling back, I wipe my runny nose on the sleeve of my jacket. Danny holds out his hand, wanting me to take it. But how can I? I don’t know who he is. Suddenly I feel afraid; am I going to die too? He obviously knows what went on, there’s no surprise for him in my revelation. I need to get out of here. Run, Becca, run. I turn and run for the gate at the side of the house. Danny follows, calling out my name.

‘Becca, wait, come back.’

The gate won’t open. I’m pulling on the handle but it’s locked. Danny reaches me before I have time to bolt for the open kitchen door. So I jump and grab the top of the gate, pulling my legs up behind me. Danny grabs me, pulls me back down, but I kick and kick.

‘Leave me alone,’ I scream. ‘Get away, get away.’

Danny doesn’t let go. He draws me down into his grip again, where I stand shaking, fearing for my life.

‘What are you going to do?’ I cry. My body feels under siege in his arms. ‘Don’t kill me, Danny.’ I have unearthed a dark secret, one that could destroy Danny’s perfect world. I am now a threat to him.

‘What?’ he says, pulling back so I can see his face. ‘Kill you? Becca, I love you, I would never do anything to harm you.’ Tears flow down his face. I can see he is shocked by what I said. But what does he expect? I’m living a nightmare, anything is possible. But I believe he isn’t going to hurt me.

The tension evaporates, leaving me feeling weak. Danny takes my hand and walks me up the backyard, into the kitchen.

‘Does Dad know?’ I say, wiping my face with the paper towels by the sink. The mud covers the paper, sheet by sheet, as I clean what I can from my face and hands. Danny doesn’t answer me.

‘Sit down, Becca,’ he says, pulling out a chair. Giving me orders again.

‘No. I want to stand.’ I don’t actually want to stand.

‘Okay,’ he says, sitting down himself.

The kitchen feels different, not like my family home. Everything is in the same place but it’s like the walls have shifted slightly. They haven’t, of course, but it’s how I feel. Like I’m standing on the set in a theatre. Everything in its place to fool the audience into believing that this world is real.