I don’t see a way out of this so I pick at my nails and start, hoping something ingenious will occur to me. ‘Well, we went out yesterday, in the afternoon.’

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Mum folds her lips together. It isn’t hard to see where Laney and I get our mouths from. ‘Where did you go?’

I hesitate, not quite able to spit it out, but nothing but the truth is pushing forwards. ‘Potters’ place,’ I whisper and duck.

It’s like expecting a volcano to explode and getting nothing. Silence. I peek through my fringe and immediately regret it. It’s hard to say what colour Mum’s face is. Her brown skin is normally this lovely shade that reminds me of Nan’s. Right now it looks more like the burnt umber I used in art class last year.

‘It was my idea, Aunty, I wanted to—’ Rhi tries to deflect what’s coming but I shake my head at her.

‘I made Rhi come. I wanted to go lookin for Laney. It’s, it’s those dreams, Mum. It feels like they’re pointin me somewhere.’

‘Ya went to Potters’ place? At night?’

‘Not night—’

She cuts me off with a slice of her hand. ‘Ya went to Potters’ place at ALL.’

I wince.

‘And ya went even after I asked ya not to go out. After I begged ya to stay safe.’ Her voice breaks and I realise there are worse things than my mother’s fury. Her pain and betrayal reach across the table and suffocate me. She takes a moment to breathe. ‘Keep goin.’

‘We headed to where they reckon Laney and them parked that night, just to see if we could find anythin. Nuthin happened Mum, I swear, nuthin! And we got out of there before sundown.’ I rush to explain myself, to somehow make her understand that I am being safe.

‘So the trees come up and bashed ya then?’

My eyes drop.

‘Would this have anything to do with Mick Franks lyin up in the hospital with a concussion?’

I look at her again. ‘Is he … is he okay?’

‘For now.’ Her reply isn’t supposed to comfort me, but it does. I don’t like the man but I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I’d only wanted to protect Sam.

‘He jumped us when we were walkin back. I … I picked up a branch and whacked im with it.’

Mum’s eyes turn brutal. ‘Good. Did he hurt you?’

She’s looking at both of us now. I know what she’s really asking so I look her dead in the eye. ‘Not more than you see, Mum, I swear.’

She lets out another big breath. Not a sigh but that moment when you’re holding it in anticipation or fear. The answer you’ve been dreading comes and the worst doesn’t happen, so the breath rushes to escape you.