CHAPTER 4
In the time before Mum died, before I met Buddy, Hattie and I were navigating who we were, and where we each stood on the moving map of growing up. I got a call, in the city where I was living. Far from St Margaret’s, but not far enough.
‘I’m coming down to visit, Penny.’
It was Hattie. She was sixteen, and her loud voice broke through the phone like an electric shock.
She was so bold now, her confidence growing with her years, and it was unnerving. I didn’t feel quite so self-assured, trying on my different selves like masks. I dreaded the thought of my younger, increasingly attractive sister bursting onto my carefully constructed scene.
‘It’s really not worth it, Hattie. There’s nothing going on tonight.’
‘I don’t care. I have to get out of here.’ I heard her inhale.
‘
