Next thing Clive was surrounded by Paratas, and I was able to return to my chores. Tucked away in the kitchen, I managed to keep a low profile. Zac’s mother came in to ask if there was any soy or almond milk. Matt dragged his family over to thank me for ‘the food and everything’. I was able to tell them, with perfect honesty, that Matt had been a real asset.

‘Is it true the injured boy tried to attack him?’ asked Mr Spiteri. He wore rimless spectacles and had the bleached, retiring look of an accountant or IT professional.

I nodded. ‘It must have been very frightening for Matt. He may need to talk it over with someone.’ Seeing the whole family exchange anxious looks, I quickly added, ‘But he handled himself so well afterwards. He stayed there and looked after Tyler and manned the radio. You should be proud of him.’

Matt’s smile lit up his face—and melted my heart. ‘You have a lovely boy, there,’ I told his mum, who suddenly looked ten years younger. Then Matt hustled his support team off to meet Joe while I turned back to the sink.

Two minutes later, a harsh voice attacked me from behind.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

Joyce had cornered me. She stood by herself, clutching a coffee mug. The sight of that familiar glare made my skin prickle.

But I spoke calmly in my slowest country drawl. ‘I could ask you the same question.’

‘Do they still let you work with kids?’ She was on the offensive. Always. ‘I’m surprised.’

‘Where’s Krystal?’

‘I dunno.’ Seeing me frown, she added, ‘As soon as we finally found her, she pissed off again. Scared, I guess. Scared of us. Scared of being arrested. Luckily she didn’t take Darren with her.’

‘Wait—hang on…’ I didn’t understand. Was Krystal not in the picture at all? And why the aliases? I needed some facts. ‘Darren? Who’s Darren? I thought he was Aaron?’

Her jaw tightened. ‘We had to change his name.’

‘Why?’

‘So she couldn’t find him.’ Joyce’s tone was snappish and impatient, her gaze hard and bright and watchful. ‘We didn’t want her snatching him again. As long as she’s still out there, we have to keep our heads down.’ Before I could ask why, she said, ‘Maybe you know where the bitch has gone.’

But I refused to be sidetracked . ‘Aaron’s sixteen. She can’t take him anywhere. Why are you still worried about her?’

Joyce began to tell me there was no way of knowing what Krystal might do—she was crazy. A criminal. I wasn’t really listening, though; my attention had wandered to Aaron himself, who had shuffled into the kitchen with a plate of Tim Tams.

His pale eyes glinted behind a limp curtain of hair.