‘So September? And how many times did she sneak off with Troy?’

‘She rings him whenever you’re on a late shift.’ Mum stewing is like a rumbling super-volcano. You know you’re standing too close and no matter what you’re going to get caught in the fall out. The difference is that running from a volcano might reduce the damage, whereas running from Mum only guarantees more.

She moves off the bed and faces out the door she came in, putting her back to me. I can see her biceps working as she clenches and unclenches her fists. When she finally turns I think I’m ready.

‘“Grounded” is too small a word for what you are.’ Her soft tone fills me with dread as she enunciates each word. ‘From here on consider yourself imprisoned. This house is your cell block, school is your yard and I am your warden. You will not go anywhere other than those two places until I say otherwise. Is. That. Clear?’

‘But I didn’t break curfew!’ The injustice of my sentence hits me full tilt. Mum advances towards me, her body held taut. She’s vibrating like a tuning fork.

‘No. You LIED TO MY FACE for FIVE MONTHS!’

I feel the guilt stab as her accusation hits home. But dammit, I am the boring one who stays home all the time. This is so not fair!

Seeing my mouth open Mum beats me to the punch.

‘And if you keep runnin your mouth I’ll give you what your sister’s gonna get when she finally shows her face. You think you’ve got it bad? That girl won’t be able to shit without my say so.’

Clamping my mouth shut because I know full well she’ll follow through on her threat, I give her my own angry, tight-lipped glare.

‘Your uncle and I are gonna go for a run. Keep close to the phone in case anyone calls.’

I nod and she turns to leave, stopping to look at me. ‘Please don’t go anywhere.’ It is possibly the first time I’ve ever heard my proud mother beg. She’s out the door before it registers.

Someone is crying.

The complete absence of light has my neck hairs lifting. There is water dripping somewhere but that is the only other noise. Muffled sobs bounce around, sounding close. Lifting my head off the dirt floor I smother a groan. My head is killing me!

‘Hello?’

The sobs stop on a gasp, there is nothing after that. Talking makes my tongue ache, reminding me that I’d bitten it.

‘Who’s there?’

A scrape of cloth on hard-packed dirt, a stirring in the air and I can feel the someone moving closer. Panic sends me scrambling backwards, the explosion of pain from my ankles only slows me a little. The someone moves faster, closer; screw the pain!

‘Stop it!’