‘I know.’

The quiet stretches again, but this time it’s filled with pain, fear and understanding.

‘I want to lock you in the house and throw away the key, but I know that’s not fair.’

I snort. ‘And I wouldn’t much like it. I’m your daughter, don’t forget, and Nan always said she couldn’t keep you put short of hogtying.’

We make eye contact and laugh. It isn’t funny but we need that laugh. It’s something we’ve always used, us mob, to give relief and make the hard things more bearable. Not less heavy, only help it sit more comfortably on our hearts. After we stop laughing we’re both calmer.

Squeezing her hands I hesitate a long while. She sits with me in silence, seeming to know that I need to ask her something. I don’t want Mum involved, but there’s no way I can rip the house apart without her noticing, even if I put everything back. The woman has the sharpest eyes out of all of us. She never misses anything.

‘What are you doin ere anyway?’ I hedge.

‘Your uncle’s car blew a tyre and his spare was bally, so we drove in. He’s over at the RACQ fulla’s place gettin two new ones. We’ll get back out then.’

‘Could we …’ I force the words out. ‘Could we search the house again? Together? To see if … you know, there’s anything?’

It’s probably the shittiest sentence I’ve ever said, but I feel her hands squeeze back. Mum ripped Laney’s room apart right after that first attempt to report her missing went so wrong. But May’s words are still bouncing around in my head.

‘Homework first, then we’ll search. Just to be sure.’

Fighting my rising anxiety I let go of her hands and hop up.

‘Great. Want a cuppa?’

‘Yeah please, daught.’

I head in and set off the kettle before retrieving my port from my room. I have my books spread out on half the table and the tea brewing before Mum joins me. I ignore her and focus on the maths textbook I pull out first. I hate maths with a passion, but I know if I invest that into the work I can churn through it fast. Not necessarily right though.

As Mum walks past her hand brushes my hair and I feel tears threaten.

While she gets our drinks ready I fight the tears down with everything I have, burying my face in the book. A mug appears to the side and Mum goes out the back to sit. She’s the reason I hate being confined. Mum says you can’t keep a good Murri out of the open air. Four walls eventually suffocate us.

Staring at the pages I don’t see a word, focusing instead on what I need to do tonight and tomorrow.