‘That’s … a bloody brilliant idea, niece.’ An evil grin spreads across Mum’s face.

Just the other day I might’ve grinned too, but I actually pity Troy. Especially now I know what he’d been dealing with. My ankles throb in pain as a reminder. Still, what wouldn’t I do to get Laney back? And now I have hope again I’m not about to let it go. Rational mind be damned, and all of Nan’s rules too. I want my twin back!

‘Easy to say,’ Uncle pipes in. ‘How do we get im to take it?’

‘We hide it in somethin, make im think it’s somethin he wants?’

‘Like what?’

‘Money,’ Sam adds. ‘Put it in somethin he can stick his hand in but not see what it is. Till it’s too late.’

Uncle Joe stares at Sam for a long second. The tension climbs a bit.

‘Like this?’ Rhi runs to the rescue, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a pretty little coin purse.

‘No way, Rhi,’ I tell her. ‘Nan gave us them.’

She’d gotten them in a range of colours one Christmas and given one to all her granddaughters. They are the last thing she ever gave us.

‘I wasn’t gonna let im keep it.’

She tosses it to me, and I stand, turning my back on the rest of them. Bringing the necklace out of my pocket, I keep my hand clenched tight around it and the bag. I don’t want to know if the howling will start again. Slipping both into the purse I snap it shut and tuck it inside my bra.

‘Eyah! I want that back!’ Rhi protests, knowing exactly what I am doing from my movements.

‘Yep, and I don’t want anyone else touchin it in the meantime. I’ll wash it for ya, don’t worry.’

I spin back and gave Mum and Uncle Joe the evil eye. They exchange looks that confirm she was thinking about holding me down and getting it. I dare her with my eyes to try it.

‘Aunty, don’t,’ Rhi begs. ‘It’ll go down her jocks next.’

I bust out laughing, and pretty soon everyone else is too. The tension peels back a bit. Not all the way, but enough so we can breathe.

We sit, sipping our tea, lost in our own thoughts. A musty smell reaches past my head and I jerk upright. The four of us who’d been by the fire go still.

‘What’s—’

I put my finger to my lips and Mum stops. We’re listening.

Uncle Joe hops up and goes to look out the kitchen window.

‘I don’t see nuthin,’ he whispers. ‘Wait, is that a fuckin ghost bird?’

He jerks back from the window.

A soft thrumming call fills the air. Goosebumps race over my skin.