Rylee’s father didn’t like his daughters playing inside. Their home had no video games or television set – no quick and easy ways to spend time beyond using one’s imagination. As a result, Rylee and her older sister spent a lot of time outside.
On this particular day, they’d decided to make a game out of throwing rocks. With their father in his study, he couldn’t hear the clunk as the stones struck the balcony above them. They would toss five rocks each, making sure to clear the glass balustrade that overlooked the driveway. Once all ten rocks had been thrown, they would rush inside and see whose rock was closest to the pillow they had placed. Landing a rock on the pillow yielded five hundred points.
Mai had already thrown her stones, so now it was Rylee’s turn. She took her favourite of the five, as she always did, and weighed it carefully in her hand. She may have only been ten years old, but she was more than capable of throwing a rock onto the balcony. She’d done it many times before.
Her father didn’t like this game. He always told them off for playing it, saying he’d need to get a glazier based in Melbourne around if they broke something. But Rylee didn’t even know what a glazier was, and her father was busy with his books, so all that mattered here was beating her sister.
With her favourite rock assessed, she pulled her arm back, waited a second or two, then took a step forward to get speed—
Rylee tripped at the last moment, the rock flying from her hand. She watched, almost in slow motion, as the stone struck the glass balustrade. Melbourne residents would be able to hear the wrath of her father tonight, she knew, as the barrier shattered.
Rylee and Maphira stared at each other in shock.
They were in big, big trouble.