4338.209 · July 28, 2018 AD
Arms Like Apologies
Rose wakes in the corrugated iron building after days of cold and hunger, her brother curled around her like armour. Then a sound that doesn't belong — tyres on dirt, an engine coughing its last. Claire is running before the dust settles. But the children who step into the light aren't quite the ones she lost, and the mother gathering them close carries secrets heavy enough to reshape everything that comes next.
Rose and Mack have spent days surviving in an abandoned building — hungry, cold, running out of options. Mack hasn't slept, positioning himself as a shield his sister never asked for but desperately needed. Claire arrives in a storm of red dust, sprinting from the car before it's fully stopped. The reunion is raw — Rose lifted off the ground, Mack held longer and harder, with an embrace that carries the weight of everything Claire cannot say aloud. But both perspectives reveal fractures beneath the relief. Rose senses her mother scanning the clearing for someone unseen, notices a wariness that doesn't belong to a rescue. Claire begins constructing the lies that will carry them forward — Brisbane, Aunty Amelia, Dad bringing the dog — and watches her nine-year-old see through every one without challenging a single word. They leave the outback as a circle of three, each holding knowledge the others don't share.
