Black, two sugars.

I know this.

Black, two sugars.

I can do this.

Black, two sugars.

I know I can. I can.

Black, two sugars.

The teaspoon clutched so desperately in my hand begins to wobble. My fingers tighten around the plastic spoon and I take a deep breath, praying that it doesn't spill. That would create a mess, and that would be bad. He hates messes.

The spoon steadies and I let myself breathe again. The sugar falls in, I stir it carefully. In the hallway, the clock chimes. It's 2:30.

I carry the coffee into the lounge room where he sits, stretched out in his favourite chair. Snoring.

I take it to him, and his eyes open. He's always been a light sleeper. I hand him the cup and he merely grunts. I stand back.

I don't know how he drinks it so fast without burning himself. It probably turns to ice in his mouth. It certainly wouldn't surprise me.

Suddenly, the cup is flung across the room. It hits the wall and shatters instantly, pieces crashing to the floor and embedding themselves in the carpet.

He says nothing, his eyes falling shut again. I don't know if he's going to sleep or not. I don't care.

I crouch down and pick up the shards, cupping them in my hand. I make no noise, even when a tiny piece cuts my thumb.

He's snoring again.

I carry what remains of the cup back into the kitchen. I dump the particles in the bin, making a mental note to buy more cups. We have only two left now.

I go to the sink and turn the taps on. We're out of hot water yet again.

The sink fills, I squirt detergent and it makes that stupid noise again.

I used to love the foamy bubbles. A few years ago, I used to wipe them through Sam's hair and she hated it. I used to laugh at her, because it looked so damn funny. I guess I used to do a lot of things.

I look at the clock. She should be home from school soon.

My hands plunge into the soapy water and the cut on my thumb stings.

Outside, the ocean is silent.



I need a shower. I'm sure I'm starting to smell.

Okay, considering I only had a shower this morning, I probably smell fine. I think I'm just paranoid. But a shower would still be nice. The door opens and a woman comes in, all happy smiles and big blue eyes. I guess she has a lot to smile about. She hasn't been sitting in the same room for the past few hours.

"It shouldn't be long now," she says brightly.

I think her name is Jessie or something. They all look the same to me.

"Are you guys hungry? We have some yummy chocolate in the fridge if you like. It's not the healthiest, but it's better than nothing."

I shake my head. I can't be bothered talking. I'm sick of talking.

"What about you? Hungry for chocolate?" she asks Sam, with another big smile.

"Yes, please." She instantly brightens up, dropping her brush onto the chair and zooming for the door. I guess she's forgotten about her precious diet. Not that she needs to go on a diet. She's nothing but a bag of bones already.

Jess follows her out and stops at the door.

"You can turn the TV on if you want."

Yeah. As if there's going to be anything decent on at 11:30PM.

She disappears after Sam, leaving me in the room. It's a nice room, small and cosy and filled with comfy chairs and toys for the kids. And suddenly, I hate the stupid room. I cross the room and stand in front of the mirror that I know is not a mirror, and shiver, rubbing my hands over my bare arms. I should've brought my jacket. But then, how was I to know we'd be stuck in a freezing cold room for half the night? Fifteen minutes, my arse.

I squint at the glass, trying to see into the tiny room that I'd seen before. Where they kept the giant recording machine thing; I wasn't really paying attention when Mike was explaining it all. I was still freaking out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder what dad's doing. If he's worried about us, if he's wondering where we are, if he even cares.

Sam's back, stuffing her face with a Mars bar, Jess right behind her.

"How're you feeling?" she asks kindly, like she actually gives a shit. I shrug and watch Sam flop onto the green beanbag.

Jess just nods, and I'm grateful she doesn't try to make me talk. She slides her hands into her pockets and leans against the doorway. "Okay well, they're just leaving to go get your father right now so... we're working on finding you guys a place for the night. Hopefully it won't be too much longer."

"Will we see dad when they bring him in?" Sam asks, sucking on her sticky fingers. Jess shakes her head.

"No, definitely not. After we're sure he's been taken away, we can swing by your place and grab some clothes for tomorrow and your toothbrushes and things, okay?"

Sam nods and turns back to her chocolate. Jess flashes me another warm smile. Everyone smiles so much in this place.

"Let me know if there's anything else you need."

And she's gone. I sigh, and crouch down beside Sam. She's hardly said anything since she got out of the interview room, and I'm worried. She's acting so... nonchalant about it all. I have no idea how she feels.

"Hey Sammy," I smile weakly and she barely looks at me, "how're you doing?"

She shrugs. "Fine."

Wow, very informative. "So... how're you holding up?"

"Fine." She picks up a book off the floor and starts reading.

Fine? We've just been through hours of questioning, our entire life is about to change, we have no idea what's going to happen next and she's just fine.

How can she be fine? My emotions are on a fucking rollercoaster ride. I'm so terrified, I can't stop trembling, I don't know if I want to cry or scream, and she's just fine. I'm about to ask her again, but Jess is back.

"We've found you somewhere for the night." She beams, and suddenly, the thought of sleeping sounds very enticing. I feel so tired. It's almost midnight, and I'm sick of this police station.

"Kelly and Vicky are going to get the car and they have to see a judge at his house so that we can have custody of you for the night. Hopefully by then they'll have your father and we can get you some clean clothes and things. Sound good?"

Sam is grinning, and it's something I'm more than glad to see.

"Hell yeah," she says happily.

If I didn't feel like just dying, I would smile with her.