G’day mate. Reckon I could ask you a favour? I feel like a bit of a wally saying this, but I thought I’d give this writing thing a crack. It’s probably complete rubbish, but I thought seeing as you’re the more analytical son, it might be better to show it to you first. I know you’ll be straight with me if it’s no good. Reckon Pete or Darren would pussyfoot around my feelings. I dunno, your mum’s said a few times that she thinks your brothers got their creative streak from me cause I always liked to tell tall tales, but that could be bullshit. Anyway, I haven’t told anyone else about this so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it under your hat. Let me know what you think.

Cheers mate,

Dad

Andrea’s skin turned cold as she clicked on the attachment and opened it up. Don’t be it. Please, God, don’t be it.

She read the title: Don’t Breathe, by Frank Lewis.

*

When she walked into the small hole-in-the-wall bar in the city and spotted Shaun sitting at a table in the corner waiting for her, that same flutter appeared in her stomach. What was going on? Okay, so she was attracted to him. But who wouldn’t be? He was good-looking. Well-built. Friendly, warm and caring. It didn’t mean anything. And it probably didn’t help that it felt like she and Tony hadn’t slept together in forever. So, her libido was up a notch — that was no surprise.

Besides, she was in a strange, jittery mood after her shocking discovery about Tony’s betrayal of his father. Of course, her stomach was fluttering. She was confused and upset. She was afraid that her husband was not the man she’d thought he was.

She needed to pull herself together and focus on the reason she was here. This was about Violet. Nothing more. Hopefully a few drinks would settle her nerves and she’d be able to put everything else out of her mind for the time being.

But then she reached the table. Shaun stood up and greeted her with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. A kiss where his lips seemed to linger just a fraction too long. And a single thought flashed through her mind: I’m in trouble here.

*

Darren

He sat on the cool sand with his elbows resting on his knees. One piece of his broken surfboard was next to him. He assumed the other half had washed up further down the beach. The ocean was ink black in front of him but he could hear the waves continuing to crash, always relentless. He wondered what the time was. Maybe around nine?