In his room, Khaden dropped his backpack on the unmade bed and took the guitar tab Sas had found for him from his bag. The excitement that had filled him when she'd given him the music was gone. Instead of a challenge, something to become lost in, the music was just sheets of paper in his hand.

Khaden pulled the letter from his pocket and ran his finger over her writing. Anger roared through him.

Stuff her and her letter.

He charged to the kitchen, s.n.a.t.c.hed a box of matches from the junk drawer and bolted out the back door. On the cement path under the empty clothesline, he struck a match and held it to the corner of the envelope.

Thirteen years and now she made contact, and not with Taj or Mike, or even all three of them, but with him.

Flame licked the envelope and took hold. Khaden dropped the match and the envelope and watched Anika's letter burn. Instead of relieved, he felt sad and alone. Khaden stomped on the flames, but it was too late. All that was left of his mother's letter was a pile of ash.

Maybe it was better this way.

Ruby.

Earbuds in, I stared out my bedroom window at the black outline of the gum trees swaying, slow and steady, in the breeze. I wished I felt slow and steady. Instead I felt fuzzy. Not soft fuzzy, but sharp, edgy fuzzy, all because of Dad, again. What was the deal with that speech over dinner about me putting in a bigger effort *with everything I do?'

The lecture was bad enough without Harrison's smug expression. Mr Perfect Next Year's School Captain. Somehow, I managed to leave the table without yelling at either of them, but my chair crashed to the ground as I walked off. I ignored Dad's demand that I pick it up.

Since then, about half an hour ago, I'd been lying here, staring and listening to music.

The door opened and Mum walked in. *What's going on, Ruby?'

I took out my earbuds and sat up. *Nothing,' I said to her knees. Since the Economics excursion to the city law courts, I avoided her face. If she looked into my eyes, she'd know what I had seen, what I knew.

She sighed and leaned against the doorframe. *Ruby, you can't even look at me.'

*Maybe Dad should worry about putting in more effort with us, instead of lecturing me. He's never here.'

Mum folded her arms. *This project he's working on is big.'

*What about golf?'

*He's on the committee now, Ruby, and they're making big changes to the club.'

I scoffed. *Yeah, right.'

Mum crossed the room and sat on the bed beside me. *How about we try something new?'

*What?'

*Honesty.'

*What about?' I asked, leaping off the bed and rushing to my desk.

*About whatever is bothering you. You've been snappy and distant for months.'

*No I haven't.' I leant against the edge of my desk.

Mum patted the bed for me to come back and sit with her. I didn't move. *Ruby, something's troubling you. Let me help.'

The scene at the city cafe flashed through my mind. *I'm fine, okay?' I turned to look at the pin board above my desk, covered in pictures of Sas, Khaden and me-lying on towels eating orange icy-poles at the pool, dressed as the Three Blind Mice for Book Week in Year Four, surrounding the snowman we'd made on the school trip to Mt Hotham this year.

*Is everything okay with Sas and Khaden?'

I gritted my teeth. Mum wasn't about to give up. I spun to face her. *Mum, can we not? I'm tired, that's all.'

*Tired doesn't explain, or excuse, why you're so snappy-no, rude to your father.'

*Drop it, Mum. I'm fine!'

She stood and walked towards me. I knew what was next-she'd hug me, tell me how much she and Dad loved me, that I could talk to them about anything. I didn't want her hug or words.

*I'm busting,' I said, slipping past her to the bathroom.

As I closed the door behind me I heard Mum sigh. The soles of her sandals clacked on the wooden stairs as she walked away.

Khaden.

Khaden stirred the pasta sauce and turned down the gas under the bubbling pot. Sas had taught him how to cook pasta a few weeks ago. Instead of making his own tomato sauce, like Sas did, he'd used a jar of sauce he'd bought from the supermarket, and he'd left out the peas, grated carrot and zucchini that Sas had added to her sauce, too. Most of the time Sas was a junk food fiend like Khaden, but when she cooked she came over all healthy, like Ruby.

Khaden stared at the bubbling water and wondered if Anika had ever cooked him pasta.

A crash from the back shed made him jump. A string of swearing floated on the evening air. Mike was in the shed, mucking around with his car and drinking beer. Taj was where he spent most of his time at home, either playing an online game or editing music on the computer.

The computer was in the family room, which was really just a wide corridor outside Taj and Khaden's bedrooms. Ceiling to floor windows overlooked the concrete drive and wilting garden. Taj and Khaden started calling it the *family room' after they set up the PlayStation and computer in there. Back then, they were a family. They used to go places together, to the movies or the cricket-one time, even the circus. But not now.

Khaden put placemats and forks on the table and called Taj and his dad for dinner.

*Gotta wash my hands,' grunted Mike, showing Khaden his short nails edged with dirt and grease. *Where's your brother?'

*Computer,' said Khaden.

The creases in Mike's forehead deepened as he headed to the bathroom. *Get off that b.l.o.o.d.y thing. Dinner is ready.' His voice rolled from the family room like thunder.

Khaden drained the pasta. Suck it up, Taj. Please.

*Yeah, in a minute,' said Taj.

Khaden gritted his teeth. Another night, another fight, or could he stop them? He called from the kitchen door. *Hey, dinner's getting cold.' He cringed. He sounded like one of those perfect American TV mums.

As he poked his head into the family room, he saw Mike wrench the office chair backwards and Taj tumble to the floor. *Your brother cooked you dinner. Show some respect.'

Taj sneered as he stood. *What, and treat him like you do?'

*What's that supposed to mean?'

Khaden's toes curled as though gripping the world, preparing for what he knew would come next.

*You don't even know he exists,' said Taj.

*Your head is so far up your a.r.s.e, you wouldn't know,' Mike scoffed. *All you care about is that c.r.a.p.' He pointed at the editing on the computer screen. *What sort of future do you reckon you'll have hanging around bands?' Spit flew from Mike's mouth.

Neris' dog, Cuddles, barked.

*You're a waste of s.p.a.ce, Taj.'

Taj shook his head and pulled the chair back to the computer. *Yeah, right. I'm the loser.'

Khaden knew something bad was about to happen, but he couldn't look away.

Mike spun the chair. Taj wobbled but kept his balance.

*Who are you calling a loser?' asked Mike, his face red.

*What would you prefer? Bully?'

Dad snarled. *You don't know what you're talking about.'

Taj shook his head. *Yeah, right. Play dumb, like you're not being investigated for bullying at work. How is Wayne?'

Khaden felt the air rush out of him. Bullying? Wayne? Was that why he, Sally and the girls had stopped coming around?

*Was it your bullying that drove Mum away, too?' yelled Taj.

Khaden shuddered. This was bad, and loud. Even if her windows were closed, Mrs Neri, the whole Neri family, would be able to hear them. Joey and Mr Neri wouldn't want him working for them now, not when his family behaved like this.

Mike dragged Taj to his feet. They wrestled, snarling angry words. Taj punched Mike in the guts. Mike grunted and doubled over. Taj's second punch hit Mike's shoulder. Mike crashed onto the tattered sofa, then lurched to his feet.

*Enough!' bellowed Khaden, rushing between them.

Mike shoved him aside. The side of Khaden's head smacked against the office chair. He knelt, head whirling and face aching. He heard a grunt and a body slam into something solid. The sound of shattering gla.s.s filled the air. Cuddles' bark was fiercer and the traffic from the main road louder. When a cool breeze lifted Khaden's fringe, he realised the computer desk had smashed the window overlooking the driveway.

Khaden stared at the shards of gla.s.s, the toppled computer and discs scattered over the carpet. The vertical blinds shivered as the breeze flowed through the broken window.

Chests heaving, Mike and Taj stared too. Mike had a red mark on his cheek and a scratch on his throat. Taj's lip and fist were b.l.o.o.d.y.

A police car pulled up in the driveway.

*b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l,' muttered Taj, wiping his lip.

*This is your fault,' snarled Mike.

Taj's laugh was short and bitter.

Two cops, one about Mike's age, the other in his early twenties, climbed out of the car. The younger cop whistled at the broken window.

Dad met them at the front door. *I'm Mike Elliot.'

Khaden heard the cops introduce themselves, Senior Constable John Dobson and Constable Nathan O'Brien. The older one, Khaden figured, asked if they could come in.

Mike led them into the family room. *My sons, Khaden and Taj.' He nodded at the boys. *So what's the problem, officers?'

*We've had a complaint,' said John Dobson.

*About a domestic,' added O'Brien.

Mike folded his arms. *Domestic?' He forced a laugh. *Nah, we were moving the computer and this oaf,' he nodded at Taj, *slipped and sent the desk through the window.'

*You haven't disconnected the printer, mouse or hard drive,' said O'Brien squatting like a TV cop to study the computer.

John Dobson looked at Taj, then Khaden. *How'd your brother cut his lip?'

Khaden, unable to look at the policeman's face, shrugged.

*Fell and hit his lip on the desk, didn't he Khade?' said Mike.

Khaden nodded.

*Is that what happened?' O'Brien asked Taj.

*Whatever he says.'

Khaden remembered how his English teacher, Ms Dimasi, had raved about how the word *glower' described an angry person's face. He didn't get it then, but now he did. Taj was full-on glowering.

*And you fell too?' asked the older cop, frowning at Khaden's face.

He touched his cheek and winced. *Yeah, clumsy family, eh?'

Dobson nodded and stepped around Khaden into the kitchen. *Smells good. Who's the cook?'

*Me,' said Khaden.

*Giving your mum a break, then?'

Khaden leant against the doorjamb. *Mum doesn't live with us-took off when I was three or something.'

*That hole in the wall,' said the cop, nodding at the spot where Mike's fist had punched through the plaster, the edges the same shape as Mike's mouth when he yelled-jagged and cruel. *What happened there?'

Khaden regretted not sticking one of his Ramones posters over it. *What hole?'

John Dobson's smile was gentle. *Want to tell me what's really going on, Khaden?'

Khaden glanced into the family room, where Mike and Taj stood by the broken window with the younger cop, then back at John Dobson. *Nothing to tell.'

*Khaden, if you need to talk ... or if your father and brother slip moving furniture again, give me a call.' The cop pulled a pad and pen from his pocket, scribbled his number and handed it to Khaden. *Anytime.'

Khaden stared at the paper, not seeing the numbers. *Everything's fine. Honest.'