He sank into a squeaky orange chair, mouth hinged open to minimise the pain. He pulled out his phone and it took a couple of seconds to match the name Anton with the idea of a person he once knew. Before prison and Queensland, he and Anton had been mates. Last year Anton had messaged him on Facebook and, after the predictable back and forth about jobs, marriage, kids etc., they’d exchanged numbers on the off chance Anton would follow through on his plan to head north for a bit. Weird that he knew Will was back in town. He’d told no one, been nowhere except this damn hospital.

The message was long and confusing. He needed to stop and reread every few words.

hey mate long time no see still planning to come up and see you in qld just need to sort stuff out here first i feel shit about this and didnt know if i shld tell you but asked around and fellas said you should know pretty sure its your sister sorry mate but id wanna know if it was my sister take care

He read the whole thing through twice again before he realised there was another message beneath it, this one a link.

Back at the house he got Nic into bed, helped her take some painkillers, said he’d check in on her in a bit. His own pain was so bad he wanted to die. First, though, he would murder Anton for sending him that link. Then that smug pubeless fucker in the clip. If he could even find him. Cowardly shithead hiding his face while Lena was easily identifiable to anyone who’d ever seen her in a t-shirt.

That scar. Bane of his cursed fucking life. She was nine and he thirteen, and they were fighting over something. It didn’t matter what. That year she’d had a growth spurt and he hadn’t and it felt like a personal attack. Four years between them, but her suddenly so tall that people just had to comment. Look out, Will, your little sister’s catching up on you! He felt mocked by her height. Like she was growing to humiliate him. He found any excuse to make her cry.

This day he’d been yelling at her in the yard and she turned and ran for the front door. He thought she was going to dob or maybe he just felt enraged at her leaving before he was done. He streaked after her, could have caught her easy but didn’t want to wrestle. She might have been slower but she was strong and not afraid to bite. He ran past her—it was a matter of seconds, the yard was not large—and reached the front door of the apartment block, open as it always was during the day. Cackling he slipped inside and slammed it closed.