Sam shifts subtly in front of me. Rhi slides up to my side and grabs my hand, squeezing it tight. We all know not to run from predators. My eyes flick to the ground searching for a stick or rock, but away from the trees there isn’t much around. I don’t want to turn my back to go looking and leave Sam and Rhi alone.

Sam’s family are fighters from way back when the boxing tents would come through. They drew all the mob in, not just for the prize money. It was the only time our men could stand toe to toe with the whitefullas and not go to gaol for it. The Millers were legends under those tents (although I’ll never admit that out loud), but there’s no way Sam can take on two full-grown men alone. We all know they won’t fight fair. They’ll double or triple-bank him and then turn on us girls.

My breath’s coming fast, but I force it to calm. Fear won’t help and it will only encourage them. Mum always meets hate and violence with anger. I’ve seen her use it like a shield and a battery to fuel herself. Fear can’t help me, but fury might.

‘Wow, what heroes,’ I scoff, leaning around Sam’s shoulders to look at them. ‘Two big hairy arses against one high school boy and two little girls, bet you feel like real men.’ I curl my lip with disdain, doing my best impression of Mum when she’s forced to interact with someone she considers scum, like the cops.

Rhi’s hand tightens so much I have to force my expression to stay in place. Sam sends me a frown. Neither of them are happy with me, but I can’t see another way out. Running isn’t an option; all they’d have to do is sit on the car and wait us out. My words have stopped their forward motion. They look like hunting dogs facing prey that has suddenly turned and attacked.

‘Is this how you rednecks get your kicks, goin after teenagers? What’s wrong, boys, can’t take on our uncles and cousins without gettin flogged?’ I move around Sam, chest up, mocking face in place. Rhi won’t let go of my hand so she’s forced to come with me. Sam doesn’t move, just keeps staring hard at me like he’s trying to mentally shut my mouth.

‘Isn’t it sad? A bunch of grown-arse men stoopin to this level. No wonder yas can’t get a woman between yas.’

Dan jerks. ‘Fuck you, what would a little gin like you know?’

I give my best bitchy grin. ‘Guess I hit a nerve. You know it’s not too late to stop being a prick. Maybe then you could keep a woman.’