‘At least ya listened to some things.’

There are rules around fighting in our town. Rules that you have to play by if you want respect, and one of the firmest ones is to never, ever pick up anything in a fight. It’s fists or nothing. And at the end of the fight it’s supposed to be done, finished. I’m not sure when people stopped living by them, but now they do all kinds of dirty things in fights – double-banking, holding grudges, men fighting women. It’s disgusting. The lowest dog act, Uncle Joe calls it. Mum made us promise that if anyone’s looking to fight us and it isn’t fair, we will pick something up for them. Since I was facing three men I hadn’t even thought about it. Without a weapon I might as well have rolled over and taken what was coming.

Mum isn’t finished. ‘They shoulda stitched the dingo up without anaesthetic. Just wait till your Uncle hears about this!’

‘Mum, you can’t!’ I gasp, my head flying up. ‘If it gets out he’ll have me charged with assault.’

The silence stretches. Mum knows the score better than us. Her thirst for revenge turns to exasperation. ‘Where did ya even go? Don’t you know how dangerous that place is?’

‘Umm … to one hill there,’ I mutter it, but she leans closer.

‘What hill?’

‘Some big one Aunty, how’re we sposed to know what whitefullas call it.’ Rhi waves a dismissive hand.

Mum’s hand slams down on the table and we jump.

‘Please tell me,’ she says in a calm, reasonable voice, ‘that you did not go to that mountain on the Potter property?’

Rhi and I share a look. Mum lets out a quiet scream, which is quite possibly the weirdest sound I’ve ever heard her make, before jumping to her feet to pace. She’s taking deep, audible breaths.

‘Do you think your grandparents warned ya away from there for fun?’ She finally looks at us and the rage is real.

‘No Mum, and I wouldn’t ave. But … Laney.’ I lift my hands and shrug, feeling helpless.

‘Oh ya better believe that little excuse isn’t gonna save ya.’ She eyes Rhi. ‘Either of ya. How’d ya even get out there?’

‘We walked.’

‘We rode.’

We look at each other in horror.

‘Out with it! If I find out ya lied about any of this, Stacey Thomson, ya dead.’ The casual way she says it disturbs me. Ordinarily a threat will be delivered with fury, this is just stated as fact.

‘Mum … I … please don’t be upset. He helped us and protected us. If he hadn’t been there who knows what those cow-cockies woulda done!’

‘Stacey …’ The warning growl is all I’ll get. My head goes down.

‘Sam Miller drove us out,’ I mumble so quietly that I think for a second she hasn’t heard me.