The other, in a white singlet darkened with sweat, holds a rifle. ‘Gentlemen,’ he says.

‘I’m John. This is Charlie.’

‘Reporters?’ the tattooed man asks.

‘Nope.’ The man with the rifle takes a few steps towards us, staring down from the bank. ‘I’m Finn, and if you’re who I think you are, you’d better leave.’

‘Skye sent me,’ Dad says. ‘She wants to see Beau. That’s why we’re here. How about you let him come with us, for a visit?’

‘Skye’s dead,’ the tattooed man says, frowning.

My eyes shoot to Beau. He’s shocked.

The woman thumps the tattooed man in the arm. ‘You fuckwit,’ she shouts. She turns to Beau, kneels down and hugs him. ‘Oh sweetheart.’

Finn addresses Beau without turning around. ‘Go with Maria.’

Beau stares at us, mouth open, forehead corrugated in pained confusion. ‘Is Mum dead?’ Maria strokes his hair. ‘Is she?’

Several of the children start to sob.

‘Shit,’ I say.

‘Beau,’ Dad says, his voice breaking.

Finn speaks to Maria without taking his eyes off me. ‘Get them out of here.’

She gathers the children together. As she leaves, she says to Dad, ‘She was my friend.’

‘Then why the hell are you here? Why didn’t you –’ I start.

‘Go!’ Finn bellows. He makes a move towards Maria and she flinches.

‘Beau, get up, sweetie. Come with me.’

But Beau sits on the ground, staring at Dad, tears welling in his eyes. Maria lifts him up with a grunt.

‘Beau,’ Dad calls out. ‘We’ll come back. We’re coming back.’

‘No you’re not.’ Finn steps closer to us, and the tattooed man follows. ‘You’re going to piss off out of here and never show your face again.’

I glare at the tattooed man, a person I’d normally spend my energy trying to placate, a giant of a man who could knock me over with a single blow. ‘What is wrong with you? Why would you tell him like that?’

‘I didn’t know –’

‘Shut up.’ Finn glowers at me. ‘This is none of your business.’ He uses his rifle to point. ‘You better start moving up that hill.’

‘He’s a little kid! Who does that?’

‘She left him. Who does that?’ Finn says.

‘Someone who’s scared for her life. Someone who’s too beaten up to carry a child with her.’ Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. I reach into my bag and grab the cold metal handle of the wrench.

‘Get off my land,’ Finn snarls.

I walk forward into the river. The water surges up and over my shoes.

‘Charlie, no.’ Dad grabs my arm. He raises his other hand to Finn. ‘We’re leaving.’

Finn steps closer, rifle held like a hammer. ‘Give me a reason, Water Rat.’

‘Charlie, don’t.’ As Dad pulls me back, his foot slips and he stumbles.

Finn laughs. I steel my arm so Dad can use me to right himself.

We walk up the river towards the bush track we came from. When it feels safe to do so, I turn around. The two men are watching us. Finn lifts his rifle as though he’s aiming at me, and the tattooed man laughs.