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Chapters (39)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. Title Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. Dedication
  6. Prologue
  7. Part One
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. Part Two
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. Acknowledgements
  36. Book club questions
  37. Author Biography
  38. Author Photo
  39. Copyright

Being sleepless for twenty-four hours was like a blood alcohol reading of 0.1. I’d been awake for forty-eight hours. The committal hearing was yet to begin and I was drunk on insomnia. My world made no sense. Douglas Anderson had warned this hearing would last at least a week. The trial itself could last much longer. Months.

But this must stop here. We couldn’t go to trial, I couldn’t stay awake for months. I’d become like a member of that Italian family, awake until it killed me.

Thumping footsteps in the hall pulled me from my trance. I flung my bedroom door open. In the sitting room Caleb was tossing a change of clothes and his new suit into a variety of plastic supermarket bags.

‘What are you doing?’ I demanded.

‘I can’t stand it anymore. Listening to your pacing. Hearing you at my door.’

I hadn’t realised he was aware of my sleeplessness. ‘I’m sorry—’ I began.

‘You can’t do anything about it. I can’t stay here.’

‘Caleb.’ I rested my hand on his arm. ‘You have to stay here. Remember the court order.’

‘It says I have to stay with one of my parents.’ He shook my hand off and continued shoving things into plastic bags. A pair of shoes, slightly muddy, on top of his new jacket. ‘I’ve already called Dad.’

Stephen arrived a few minutes later. Caleb must have called him a while ago. I had no choice but to let him leave. The next time I’d see him would be in court.

Images

I remembered Caleb on the evening of the bushfires, features covered in soot. A smear followed the line of his nose. His bandana was black, I hadn’t yet spotted the blood. I remembered my own desperate relief at seeing him. I didn’t see the weirdo goth others saw. I didn’t see the murderer from Facebook and news site comments. My Caleb was still a golden-haired boy riding on my shoulders while I piggybacked him to the creek where he would one day go, walking into this disaster.

Part Two

PART TWO

17

17

MAIA | Goddess of Growth

Originally a demure cave-dwelling nymph, Maia became known as the good mother when she chose to raise a child conceived when Jupiter raped her, even after jealous Juno transformed the baby into a bear.

MONDAY NIGHT

CALEB