BOUND IN IRON AND INK

SIGNALS IN THE DARK​ Kirrily "Rindy" Cross pov​Night in Byron Bay didn't fall softly; it collapsed like a dark, wet blanket over the cliffs. Outside the cottage, the wind had picked up, making a long,loud sound through the trees with long leaves and shaking the loose timber frames of the bedroom window.​Inside, the only sound was the steady, pattern rise and fall of Toby’s breathing.​I sat on the edge of his low mattress, one hand resting gently over his small chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his soft, warm pajamas. He turned in his sleep, his little fist holding tightly his worn very soft kangaroo, a faint sigh escaping his lips.​He’s safe. He’s right here. I repeated the words, trying to slow the desperate strong repeated sound in my chest.​An hour had passed since the gravel had made a cracking sound outside an hour in total, struggling to breathe silence. When I had gathered a little bit of courage, grabbed the fire stirring rod from the hearth, and looked closely

THE PRICE OF SILENCE Kirrily "Rindy" Cross POV​Rain poured over the southern coast and dragged the sky down with it, turning the blue horizon into a darkened,sad looking.​I stood in the narrow doorway of my cottage, watching Toby splash in a slight shallow pool near the garden fence. He had his little red raincoat zipped up to his chin, his yellow rubber boots trampling into the muddy water with pure, unbothered joy. Every splash was loud, innocent, and bright against the oppressive silence of the crags.​I gripped the wooden doorframe, the damp wood digging into my palm.​Inside my coat pocket, the burned phone felt heavy, like a heavy weight pressed against my chest. Tahlia's warning echoed through my ear. “if you don't come, you will never know what happened to your sister”.​I had a large piece of heavy metal down my chest. closed my eyes and leaned my head against the door.​Stay, my instinct screamed at me. Stay in this quiet corner of Byron Bay. Lock the iron deadbol

THE DISTANCE I KEPTBanjo”Jaxson’s” povI had spent four years learning how to watch a woman without letting her know I was watching.Tonight, that distance felt like doing something wrong.The video from space moved unsteadily across the monitors in front of me, turning Byron Bay into a collection of cold images and moving shadows. Streets. Houses. Vehicles. Beachfront properties. Roads disappeared into darkness.And then I saw her.Kirrily.Even from thousands of feet above the ground, I knew the way she moved.She stepped out of a small building near the edge of town, pulled her jacket tighter around herself, and looked over her shoulder.My fingers stopped above the keyboard.She did that when she was nervous.Three years ago, she used to take a quick look over her shoulder twice.Now she has done it four times.Something had changed.I leaned closer to the screen.“Come on,” I whispered.Kirrily stood below a streetlight, her face was too small to make out clearly. A vehicle passed behind her