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‘What’s that mean?’

‘We’re moving earlier than expected.’ He grunts, pulling a heavy box down from a shelf and sliding it across the floor to join the others.

Swallowing, I stare at them. ‘How soon?’

‘Go talk to your mother.’

Sighing, I head into the kitchen. Mum is doing the same thing: piling our utensils into boxes. I grab a Gatorade and take a long drink before facing her. She gives me a tight smile.

‘Things have changed, kiddo. Better get packing.’

‘When are we leaving?’

‘Monday.’

‘As in the day after tomorrow?’ I exclaim, feeling the walls close in around me. The plastic bottle pops in my tightening grip.

‘Save the scene, I’ve just dealt with this from your sister. Go and pack your things.’

I feel numb and a little dazed as I climb the stairs. Loud banging and huffs come from my sister’s room. I hover near her door, leaning on the doorframe.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘What’s wrong?’ She spins on her heel, glaring at me. Her hair is messy and she has deep, dark purple bags under her eyes. ‘I’m not moving anywhere with them. They can’t uproot our entire lives because of him.’

‘Grant?’ I ask. I’m assuming she’s referring to my stepfather and the new job.

‘Who else would I be talking about?’ she snaps in irritation. ‘Have a voice, for once. You don’t want to move just as much as I don’t.’

‘Mum knows what she’s doing. If she says this is the best thing for us, then I support that.’

‘Mum has no idea what the fuck is happening in this house.’

I stare at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Open your eyes. Neither of them are who they say they are.’

‘That’s enough.’ I startle at Grant’s deep voice. I pivot to see him standing behind me. I dart out of his way and glance back at Isla, whose face has paled significantly. ‘Bryn, go pack your things,’ Grant bellows.

Nodding, I slip past him, unsure what Isla’s words meant. Forcing the thoughts from my head, I exhale. My hands are shaking as I look around my room, wondering where I should start. My phone buzzes and I pull it out. Despite everything, I smile at his name on my screen.

Suddenly, my door flies open and Isla charges in. She glowers at me.

‘I fucking hate you.’

I balk, flinching back from her. ‘What?’

‘You’re a dumb, stupid bitch and I hate you.’ Her eyes flick to my phone and I quickly clutch it to my chest. She snarls, lunging forward. She plucks it easily from me and throws it hard at the wall. The screen shatters into a thousand tiny bits of glass, before the phone thumps harshly onto the wooden floor.

I gape at her, tears springing to my eyes. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’

‘Why was it never you?’ she spits before stomping out of the room. She slams my bedroom door so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t fall off its hinges. As usual, I’ve got no clue what she is talking about. I follow her out, blinking in shock. My stepfather steps out of her room, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt.

‘What is going on?’ I ask.

‘We’re leaving,’ he growls. ‘Today.’

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