‘Well?’

  ‘Well, what?’

  ‘Well, what did you mean by it? Are you saying Will is better than Jonathan or my father?’ As always, she emphasises the my in my father, reminding me that Gerry is not my biological dad.

  I sigh and glance at my mother. It comes as no surprise when, instead of defending me, she takes out her phone and stares at the screen, even though it didn’t ring. Sophie is the picture-perfect, blonde-haired, blue-eyed daughter she always wanted. She is the warm glow of morning, streaked with gold and full of promise. By comparison, I’ve always felt like the coming of twilight, that time of day when the sun fades and you can never really be sure of anything.

  ‘I’m not saying that, Sophie,’ I deadpan, giving up and looking away from Mum. ‘No one is better than Jonathan. You married the best guy in town, no wait… in the world. Is that what you want to hear?’

  She glares back at me, her cheeks visibly warming. ‘I did.’

  ‘I know. Congratulations.’

  Sophie’s jaw clenches, and her perfectly crafted nose bunches up in frustration. ‘Well, everyone in town thinks Will’s having an affair. What do you have to say about that?’

  The shock of her words knocks the wind out of me, and I lean even further back in my seat.

  ‘No one wants to tell you, but I will,’ she continues. ‘Some woman in Canberra, apparently.’

  I swallow down the urge to scream and quickly reach for the tiny nook behind Koda’s ear. Sensing my anxiety, he moves in closer, the warmth of his body pressing against my leg.

  ‘That’s… ridiculous,’ I manage, but even as I say the words, I know it’s not. There was that time before. It was just once, but if Will has met someone else, it would explain a lot.

  ‘Is it, Mia?’ she asks. ‘I mean, in a way, it’s true what you said. He talks to the Prime Minister every day. You eat breakfast with a dog.’

  ‘Koda is a qualified canine search and rescue officer,’ I tell her, my voice trembling. ‘He saves people’s lives.’

  ‘It’s a dog, Mia.’

  I glance back at my mother, as she continues to scroll on her phone as though none of this is happening. ‘Mum, are you really not going to say anything?’

  Eventually, she slips the phone back into her bag and looks at me. ‘It’s true, Mia. I heard the rumours as well.’

  My throat thickens. ‘I meant about the way Sophie's speaking to me.’

  Her eyes linger over me, then she stares down at Koda, an unmistakable look of contempt on her face. ‘Mia, get rid of the dog and move to Canberra with Will before it’s too late.’

  ‘Get rid of…?’ I repeat slowly. ‘Did you actually just say that to me?’

  ‘Like your sister said, it’s a dog,’ she tells me with a toss of her creamy blonde hair. ‘It will forget all about you the minute someone else feeds it.’

  I bite down so hard on my bottom lip that I’m sure it’s about to bleed. ‘She’s my half-sister, and please don’t call Koda it.’

  My mother and Sophie look at each other and roll their eyes. It’s more than I can take. ‘You know what… screw you both.’

  ‘Mia!’ my mother gasps, her hand flying up to her chest. ‘We’re in public.’

  ‘I don’t care. I don’t need this.’ I quickly tuck my hair back behind my ear and tighten my grip on Koda’s lead. ‘Will is not having an affair, Sophie, and Mum… I wish I could say I don’t know why you’re like this, but that would be a lie. I just wish for once you would take responsibility for your own decisions and stop taking them out on me. Dad was your choice, not mine, and I’m sick of it. Just sick of it.’

  ‘Mia—’ she begins, but I cut her off.

  ‘I’m a person. I might not have Sophie’s blonde hair and perfect husband, but I’m still your daughter.’

  Sophie stares down at me, her brow arched in shock.

  ‘You have something more to add?’ I snap at her.

  She hitches up her designer bag, no doubt a gift from my mother, and shakes her head.

  ‘Good,’ I say, pushing out from the chair and standing up. ‘Because we’re leaving.’

  With every step, I feel their eyes boring into my back as we walk away. My cheeks burn, and the back of my knees tremble. When I’m a safe distance, I fold myself into a park bench and begin to sob.

  As I sit and cry, Koda rests his head in my lap. My hand automatically falls across the top of his head, and I try to focus on the texture of his fur. It’s a coping mechanism I learned a long time ago, to focus on the feel of something in the present to stop my mind from spiralling into the past. I’m not even sure exactly what it is I’m crying about. The idea that Will might be cheating on me? The fact my mother doesn’t love me, or worse, that she doesn’t even want to know if she could? Probably all of it – or maybe none of it, and it’s just that I can’t get Lilly Daniels’ dead eyes out of my head.

  Chapter Nine

  Britt

  BACK at home, I punch Lilly’s name into the search bar on my phone and hit News. Every morning, I check, expecting to see a story revealing the truth about how she died, or at least the findings of the autopsy report, but as I scroll down, there’s nothing new. Just the same story from last week about her body being found in the national park.

  He got to them somehow. He must have. I toss the phone onto the bed and close my eyes. Arsehole.

  Not for the first time, I think about telling Mum what happened, but then picture the look on her face and change my mind. I can’t. She’d never get it. There’s always Juniper, but screw her. Why should I give her one more reason to be perfect? Growing up in the shadow of a sister idolised by the whole town was bad enough. Why should I tell her something that would probably win her an award?

  She wouldn’t have the guts to confront him anyway. Not after she made everyone so proud by moving to Sydney last year to become some fancy journalist. In the eyes of the town, she might as well be Taylor Swift – only without the singing. Just the parts that make people swoon and carry on like she’s God’s gift. She’d never come back here and blow it all by writing a story like that. Besides, it’s not like she’d listen to me anyway. Why would she? No one else does.

  Beside me, the phone rings, and I snatch it up, relieved for the distraction.

  ‘Can you do a shift this morning?’ my manager Nate asks, not bothering with a greeting. ‘One of the bowsers isn’t working. I’ll be tied up all day fixing it. Can’t be out there and on the till.’

  ‘Yeah, okay. Give me ten to get ready.’

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab my work shirt off the back of the chair. Since quitting school last year, Mum has refused to do my washing, so there’s every chance it stinks. I sniff check the underarms and deciding it’s not too bad, I slip it on. As an afterthought, I double-spray myself with perfume and immediately wonder why I bothered. It’s not like anyone paying for petrol is close enough to sniff me, and let’s be real, no one’s going to give a shit what the servo chick looks or smells like. I wrangle my dark hair into a rough ponytail, tighten it with both hands, and glance into the mirror. It’ll have to do.

  I grab my bag and am almost at the door when Mum calls my name. These days, our conversations are debates at best, and screaming matches at worst. We’ve never really gotten along, but since Juniper left and I quit school, things at home have gone down the shit-chute fast.

  ‘You weren’t supposed to have work today.’

  I sigh and close my eyes. I can sense her standing right behind me. ‘Nate called me in. Not like I can say no.’

  ‘Can you turn around and look at me, please?’

  I puff out my cheeks, then let the air out slowly. Here we go…

  When I turn and look at her, my first thought is that if shame and disappointment had a baby, it would look like my mother. Slumped shoulders, pursed lips, her head hanging like there’s a chain around her neck with my face on it.

  ‘Mum, don’t start.’

  ‘Britt,’ she says, steadying herself and finally looking up. ‘You’re seventeen. It’s ten in the morning.’

  ‘Your point is?’

  ‘You’ve got enough makeup on to be a…’ She bites her lip before the word slips out. ‘And what? Did you bathe in perfume?’

  ‘Well, if you’d wash my shirt with the rest of the load, I wouldn’t have to, would I?’

  She rubs at the back of her neck. ‘Go and take some of the makeup off. You don’t need black eyeshadow at this hour.’

  ‘It’s eyeliner. Anyway, I don’t have time. I have to go.’

  ‘Britt.’ Her tone is a warning – take the makeup off or we’ve got a problem.

  I meet her glare, and wonder how long she can hold eye contact without blinking. ‘My best friend just died, you know.’

  She blinks first, and a small tug of satisfaction rises in my chest.

  ‘I know that, and I’m sorry, but…’

  ‘Finish it, Mum. But…’

  ‘…but she shouldn’t have taken God-knows-what and wandered off like that.’

  I scoff, staring up at the ceiling. Unbelievable. Everyone in this town is un-freaking-believable.

  ‘That’s not what happened,’ I whisper to the manhole.

  ‘What?’

  I know she’s staring, but I don’t bother explaining. ‘Nothing. Can I just go?’

  ‘Britt, if you know something—’

  I shrug and hitch my bag higher. ‘What would I know, Mum? I’m just the chick with too much makeup who dropped out of school to work at the servo.’

  Mum presses her fingers to her temples like she’s trying to stop her brain from exploding. ‘Fine. You win. I don’t have the energy to argue anymore.’

  It’s tempting to bolt while I can, but something’s off. She never gives up this easily. ‘Wait, what’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing. I just can’t keep doing this.’

  ‘No, there’s something.’ I tilt my head. ‘What is it?’

  I quickly run through a mental list of reasons she could be giving in so easily. Is Dad sick? Are we losing the house? Could Juniper be…

  ‘Fine,’ she sighs, before I can finish the thought. ‘Your sister’s coming home for a bit. I thought maybe she could talk some sense into you. You need to go back to school, Britt, and finish Year 12.’

  ‘Oh, my God.’ I throw up my hands and turn on the spot. Just what I need, freaking Journalism Barbie coming back and telling me what to do. ‘Mum, you’ve got to be kidding?’

  ‘No, she’s already on her way. She’ll be here for dinner.’

  ‘I’m going.’

  ‘Britt—’

  ‘I’m going.’ I push the door with one hand and don’t bother stopping the screen from slapping shut behind me.

  ‘Come straight home after your shift, Britt,’ she calls. ‘I mean it.’

  I stomp down the path as visions of Juniper’s perfect hair and glowing skin suddenly begin to suffocate me. ‘I wish I was the one who was dead!’ I shout loud enough for the entire street to hear. ‘I fucking hate it here.’

  Mum will be mortified, but at least it’ll give her something to do for the rest of the day – worry about what the neighbours think.

  Chapter Ten

  DETERMINED to clear my head, we walk toward the edge of town and turn left onto Wildling Road. Beside me, Koda sniffs the air, breathing in the scent of wattle and sunbaked grass. To the right stretches the untamed sprawl of the national park, and to my left are acres of pristine farming land, the road a dusty seam between two worlds.

  Koda glances up at me, and I smile. He searches my face, and while I can’t know for certain, I hope he understands what it means – that just having him beside me is enough.

  If we follow the road long enough, we’ll end up at Silver Bark River, where, if you’re lucky and very quiet, you can sometimes glimpse a platypus unearthing rocks and sticks as it hunts for yabbies and worms. As kids, Jason and I would go there whenever we could, pretending to be in some magical world far away from Mum and Wildling.

  With every magpie chorus and low from the cattle, my shoulders ease. Koda’s breathing falls in time with my steps, and I begin to push Sophie’s stupid accusations out of my mind. And my mother. I should be used to her by now. She was different once, back when Jason and I were little. Still miserable and angry, but at least it was aimed at Dad and not us. Since I’ve been on the receiving end, it’s easier to understand why one day he went out and just never came back. She always told us drugs and drinking got the better of him, but maybe he just got sick of her shit. Because who wouldn’t?

  The sound of car tyres on dirt cuts through the quiet, and I stop and turn. Shit, what’s he doing out here?

  Behind me, Herm’s police car crawls along the road. Knowing I don’t have a choice, I stop and wait. When he pulls up alongside us, the window slides down, and he looks at me over his aviator sunglasses.

  ‘You headed to see someone?’ He nods up the road.

  ‘See someone? No, we’re just walking.’

  He stares out the windscreen, chewing gum. The wet squelch between his teeth makes me want to vomit.

  ‘Not thinking about heading to Willow’s Crossing, are you?’

  ‘Like I said, I’m just walking Koda.’

  ‘Daley told you not to, huh?’ He grins like the Cheshire Cat.

  ‘Daley didn’t have to tell me anything. I’ve got no reason to go there. I already told you that.’

  ‘How long have we known each other, Mia?’

  Invisible fingers crawl along my arm, making me shudder. ‘A long time, Herm.’

  ‘Since you were a little girl.’ He stares out along the road, then turns his attention back to me. ‘Didn’t I always look out for you? Whenever you got in trouble, who picked up the pieces? Not your mamma.’

  I swallow and fix my eyes on a lone tree standing out on the horizon. ‘Koda’ll get restless if we don’t keep moving, so…’

  ‘You know it was me,’ he says quietly. ‘You know I always took real good care of you.’

  ‘Herm…’

  The click of the car door latch makes my heart sink. He’s getting out. Sensing the shift in my energy, Koda presses closer, eyes locked on Herm.

  ‘It’s okay, mate,’ I whisper. ‘Everything’s all right.’

  With one foot on the road, Herm pauses and eyes Koda, as if weighing his chances before pushing the door open and climbing out.

  ‘The thing is,’ he says, boots crunching in the dirt, ‘I think you’re lying about what your dog sniffed out at Jack’s the other day.’

  ‘Like I said, Koda just barks sometimes. He likes the—’

  ‘—smell of cow shit. So you said.’ He looks around, hands on his hips. ‘Thing is, Mia, there’s plenty of cows out here now. Probably plenty of shit too, but I don’t hear him barking. Do you?’

  I follow his line of sight across the paddocks, then back along the empty road. He steps closer, smelling of sweat and cheap supermarket cologne. Beside me, Koda growls.

  ‘Better shut that dog up,’ Herm says, leaning in so close I can feel his breath on my ear. ‘You know what happens if he bites a police officer.’

  ‘Koda, quiet,’ I murmur, too scared to move. ‘It’s okay.’

  Herm lingers, then steps back and hitches up his trousers. ‘So, you going to tell me what you’re really doing out here?’

  Before I can answer, the rumble of an engine draws our attention. Up ahead, a battered red pickup rattles toward us. Rust streaks the bonnet, the bumper hangs loose, and there are no number plates. Behind the wheel sits an elderly woman with a shock of wild grey hair piled atop her.

  Mimi.

  She pulls up just short of Herm’s car and climbs out, a shotgun dangling from her hand. The material of her long dress, painted in swirls of green and yellow, hangs bright against the dull dirt road, and her feet are bare.

  ‘For God’s sake, Mimi,’ Herm mutters. ‘You’re driving an unregistered, unroadworthy vehicle and carrying what I can only assume is an unregistered firearm.’

  Unfazed, Mimi shrugs and scans him from head to toe. ‘Don’t need no registration if I don’t drive where I ain't s'posed to,’ she says.

  ‘And what do you call this?’ Herm asks, pointing down at the ground.

  ‘I call it Wildling Road. Private property,’ she answers with a click of her tongue. ‘Sarah Stanton’s parents own from that red mailbox,’ she gestures with the rifle, ‘all the way back to that fence rail.’

  As the barrel swings past his head, Herm ducks. ‘Christ, Mimi. Put the gun down.’

  ‘And from that fence rail,’ she goes on, ignoring him, ‘to the edge of Willow’s Crossing, guess whose property that is? You don’t need to answer because we both know damned well it’s mine.’

  Herm exhales, shaking his head.

  ‘Kiddo, you and Koda go get in the truck,’ Mimi says, her eyes trained on Herm. ‘You’ve got nothing more to say to my granddaughter, do you, Drinkwater?’

  Herm stiffens and glares at her. ‘I ever catch you discharging that weapon, I’ll confiscate it.’

  ‘Well,’ Mimi says with a sigh as she turns and follows us back toward the pickup, ‘you ever around when I discharge this weapon, might be you won’t be confiscating anything.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Britt

  MOST times at work, I’m grateful for the quiet. In Wildling, people fill up their cars and trucks with petrol once a week, so it’s not like working at one of those bigger stations out on the freeway. There’s only the odd trickle of townsfolk and farmers. They say hello and have a quick chat, usually about how hot it is, how cold it is, or how it’s windy enough to blow a dog off a chain. Normally, I can’t wait for them to get back into their cars and go, but this morning I’d do anything for someone to drive in, just to distract me from thinking about my sister coming to stay.

  It’s not that I don’t love Juniper. I do. I just don’t like her.

  Since we were little, she’s always been so worried about what everyone thinks. She’s a lot like Mum that way – always wanting to be liked. At school, her grades were almost perfect and she was good at everything. Even now, there’s still a shelf in her room crowded with trophies for freestyle, backstroke, and butterfly. I can’t even swim. And just to top it off, right up until she left for university, she dated Jack Stanton’s son, Bryce, who, of course, every girl in Wildling dreams of marrying someday.