‘So they’d ave cut that way?’ The mountain leers at us from my left as I face the way he’s pointing. I can feel the relief pouring off me at just the idea of not walking closer to it.

He shakes his head. ‘She’s your twin. You tell me.’

God I wish he hadn’t said that.

My head wants me to walk towards the house, search the ground, anything but what my gut was saying. Somehow even facing the Potters seems less scary.

I snort at myself in disgust. Science says there isn’t anything out here scarier than a dingo, or emus with chicks … maybe a scrubber if it felt like being a mongrel. Gut feelings don’t count for anything. I need to think this through.

If I let childhood fears dictate my choices, then I’m being irrational. Possibly to the point of endangering my sister. My feet point towards the hill and I take a step forwards.

‘Why that way?’ Sam’s voice has gone up a bit and I smile.

‘Not sure, come on.’

The crunching of my feet through dirt is the only sound until I reach the first tree. All the breath I’m holding rushes out when I hear Sam’s footsteps crunching behind me.

‘Wait!’

A car door opens, slamming as a panicked Rhi rushes up to my side. She really moves. I can see shame all over her face as she blushes.

‘Ya not leavin me ere alone!’

I nod and start walking again. I’m too busy fighting my own nameless dread to make fun of hers.

‘We’ve only got a couple-a hours till sundown, better get a move on.’ Sam’s reluctance is clear, but still he turns to that mountain. I’m grateful. I don’t think I can force myself forwards alone.

Reaching the tree line we all hesitate. The shadows stretch out over us. Trees are comforting and feel like home, except for here. Right now they feel menacing, concealing horrible secrets. I push through. The temperature cools under those trees. A thick canopy branches out above us, one of the only untouched places I’ve seen recently, blocking out the light and making it feel almost twilight. Through the gloom, the conical shape of the mountain sits. Waiting. All the colours are muted, even the bird calls are absent. There’s a stillness that doesn’t feel right. Goosebumps race over me and I remind myself of the science, that the lack of sun will make the temperature drop – nothing else.

Rhi’s arm finds its way through mine; her whole body presses against me as we walk. I pretend it’s only her doing the holding. We might’ve been tiptoeing for all the noise we make. The world and us – we hold our breaths.