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9:15am
    Sasha Hunter
     
    I don't need to open my eyes to know something isn't right. I wake up to find that I'm tucked up in bed. For half a second I ponder the old line from children's stories; maybe it was all just a dream? But when I open my clenched fist the aged paper with the hangman game confirms the cold reality.
    I try to sit up and immediately wish I hadn't; I've never felt weaker in my life. My legs tremble and my tongue feels too thick for my mouth. It feels like someone is crashing a set of symbols together inside my head and there's a swelling on my scalp. Even the lightest touch of my fingertips makes me wince. All in all, I feel dreadful. At least I'm breathing. At least I'm still alive.
    I glance at my alarm clock: it reads 9:17am. I must have been out for eight or nine hours. What happened? And what's going on with the hangman game and the words which morphed before my eyes? Did I faint, or was I attacked? Only one person can answer these questions. I need to speak to Dad.
    I wander the house, dazed and confused, but can find no sign of him. As I stagger torward the lounge Katalina walks into the hallway from the kitchen. On finding me wandering half-dressed, her jaw and her coffee cup hit the floor simultaneously.
    "Sash, you scared me! What you doing out of bed?"
    I stuff the yellow paper away as she gives me a big hug.
    "Kat, what happened?"
    Katalina's face has bad news written all over it.
    "Oh Sash, there been a break in!"
    A break-in? But why is every room in the house fine apart from Dad's attic room? This has something to do with Dad and his strange job, I'm sure it has.
    "Where's Dad?" I ask , as Kat kicks into housekeeper mode and starts to fuss over the spilt coffee.
    "Mr Hunter has been attacked. I find him on the floor and take him to hospital." In her agitated state Kat's English is even more broken than usual. "Then I come home and find you fainted! I want to take you to the hospital too, but you tell me you OK and need lie down. Do you remember? Did you bang head?"
    I don't remember passing out at all but my main concern right now is for my father.
    "Don't worry about me, Kat. Is Dad alright?"
    "He ’s been strangled, Doctors say. He’s alive, but not very well. I take you see him, yes?"
    I throw on some clothes and we race off in Kat's VW Beetle, much faster than it was ever built to go. The old Beetle groans in protest as we lurch through a set of lights on amber. Kat's normal driving mode is blind panic so I'm pretty used to it by now. Despite not wanting to, I start to cry angry tears.
    "Why would anyone do this to Dad?"
    I'm raging over what happened and as I fix my eyes in the car mirror, I see their crimson glint burning. I'm also upset that I didn't take Dad's hand the last time I saw him.
    "You see anything, Sash?"
    I hesitate. This is my chance to confide in someone. Kat is a good friend, but the last thing I said to Dad was that I'd keep his secret.
    "No … nothing," I lie.
    I don't like lying to Kat. But it's only a white lie, the kind of lie you tell when you're trying to do the right thing. I twiddle nervously with the paper in my pocket. I have to speak to Dad.
     
    + + +
     
    On our arrival at the hospital, we're directed to a private ward. As we turn onto a corridor we almost walk into an argument between a young man and an older nurse. Even from behind, I recognise the tall physique and broad shoulders. It's Aaron. I feel a surge of anger, like I did the last time I saw him and left him in a crumpled heap for grabbing hold of me. Everything has turned crazy since he showed up. What's he doing here now?
    "I need to see him," demands Aaron to the nurse.
    "I'm sorry, sir, but that's not possible," replies the old nurse firmly. "Mr. Hunter is very ill. It's close family only."
    He turns at the sound of our heels clicking on the linoleum floor. Dressed in jogging pants and a fitted tee shirt, he looks like he's just come from the gym. Our eyes lock. Mine have their crimson