J UST INE LARBALE ST IER

Chapter oNe

Rosa is pushing all the buttons.

She makes the seat go forwards and backwards, the
leg rest up and down and in and out, lights on and off,
TV screen up, TV screen down.
Weve never been in business class before. Rosa has to
explore everything and figure out what shes allowed to
do, what she isnt, and how to get away with the latter.
The flight attendants love her. Flight attendants
always love Rosa. Theyre not alone: most strangers do.
Shes ten years old with blonde ringlets, big blue eyes,
and dimples that she can turn on and off like, well, like
pushing a button.
Rosa looks like a doll; Rosa is not a doll.
Shes in the window seat, which means Im between
her and any potential victims. For the moment shes
enjoying the buttons. She can get lost like that, pushing
buttons, counting sand, calculating angles, figuring out
how things work, how to make them work for her.

Im hoping shell be distracted the whole way to New

York City. Its not a strong hope. This flight is a lot longer
than hour. Rosa will get bored, shell look for ways to
make trouble, ways to make my life difficult without our
parents finding out. Thats the game she plays. My job is
to stop her.
Business class will keep her occupied longer than
economy ever did. It is pretty sweet. I can stretch out in
my seat. When I reach forward I can barely reach the seat
in front. Nothing is banging into my knees. If only there
were a gym on the plane. If only the plane was headed
home to Sydney.
I wonder how hard it would be to open the emergency
exit. Rosa is staring at the safety card.
For you? Impossible. Youre too small. Besides, no
one can get them open when a plane is in flight. I dont
know if thats true. Im sure Rosa will look it up later and
tell me if it isnt.
What about setting the plane on fire?
She wouldnt be saying any of this if Sally and David
could hear. But this space were stuck in for the next
billion hours eats up all our words. Theyre swallowed in
the low hum of the engines. I can hear Rosa, every word
she speaks, the click and buzz of the buttons she pushes,

the creak of her seat as it moves, and she can hear me. We
cant hear anyone elses words and no one can hear ours.
Che.
Yes, Rosa? Is she going to ask me about blowing up
the plane this time?
I wish wed stayed in Bangkok.
I doubt that. Rosa never seems to care where in the
world the parentals drag us.
Six months wasnt enough for you? Six months is a
long time for us to stay anywhere.
Ill miss Apinya.
I cut a look at Rosa but say nothing. Apinya is not
going to miss her. Not after what Rosa made her do.
When we said our farewells Apinya clung to her mother,
crying, and refusing to let go. Her parents thought it was
because she was distraught at losing Rosa. I knew it was
because Apinya was afraid of her.
Rosa turns back to the buttons, pushing each one over
and over. Shes waiting for me to tell her to stop. Thats
not going to happen. I plug my headphones into my
phone and start a Flying Fists podcast I saved five for
the plane while reading through the last few text from
my besties, Jason, Georgie and Nazeem. I tilt the phone
so Rosa cant see.

She set anything on fire yet?

Funny.
Funnier now that Rosas asked about it. I wish
Georgie was here. Jason and Nazeem too. I miss them.
Theyre the only ones I can talk with about Rosa. Even if
only Georgie believes me.
Halfway through the second podcast, a special on
Muhammad Ali, Rosa pokes me in the arm.
Che.
Yes, Rosa? I slip the headphones to my neck.
Ive been good and kept all my promises.
I snort. Rosa mostly keeps her promises by finding
loopholes. Shell be a terrifying lawyer.
I should get to do one tiny bad thing.
Being good is not a game, Rosa. Everything is a game
to Rosa.
Rosa dimples at me even though she knows Im
immune.
I should get a reward for being good.
My not telling the parentals is your reward.
But you have told them.
Not about what you did to Apinya.
Once I told the parentals everything Rosa did. Ive
stopped. Theyre convinced her acting out yes, thats

what they call it is normal for a kid her age. Besides,

they always say, shes much better than she was. No,
shes much better at hiding what she is. As far as theyre
concerned Rosa had a problem. They took her to doctors,
therapists, specialists, who cured her. Problem solved.
Wasnt anything to tell. I didnt do anything.
Im not going to say for the billionth time that making
someone do something awful is as bad as doing it yourself.
Other people do bad things all the time.
Youre not I begin.
Look at that old man. Hes being bad.
Across the aisle a middle-aged guy in a business suit is
waving his arm to get a flight attendants attention. He
gulps down an amber-coloured drink as if it were water.
Drinking like that is bad, Rosa says, primly. Thats
his seventh one. She crosses her arms as if shes made
a brilliant point. Why arent they refusing to give him
more? Or putting him in plane jail?
There is no plane jail.
Hes bothering that woman, Rosa says as if she cares.
The man is now leaning into the woman next to him,
which is hard to do. In business class theres almost a table
between the seats. The woman is leaning as far away as
she can. She has headphones on and a book in her hands.

I should do something. Maybe the man will be

ashamed if a seventeen-year-old boy calls him on his
shitty behaviour.
Before I can get up a flight attendant stops next to us.
She doesnt turn to the drunk, she turns to Rosa. You
called, young lady? she asks, leaning forward to turn off
the attendant light.
Rosa beams, dimpling, and lets her ringlets bounce.
The flight attendant cant help but return the smile.
Im fine, but I dont think that woman is. Rosa points
past the flight attendant. That man is annoying her. Is
there something you can do? My brother says you dont
have plane jail, but if you do you should put him in it.
Hes a bad man.
The flight attendant turns her palms out apologetically.
No plane jail, Im sorry, but its so sweet of you to be
worried. Let me investigate.
She smiles at Rosa again.
I like your earrings, Rosa says. Theyre red jewels set
in gold.
Thank you. The flight attendant heads back up the
aisle.
See? Rosa says. I do care about other people. I helped
her. Whats my reward?

Helping someone else is your reward.

Rosa rolls her eyes, an expression she saves for me.
The drunk man stands, sways in his seat, and then
lurches into the aisle. He reeks. He stumbles, grabbing
the side of my cubicle to steady himself. He smells of
alcohol and stale sweat.
Hey, little girl, he says, staring at Rosa. Pretty hair.
Just like Shirley Temple. I bet you dont know who
Rosa sticks her tongue out at him.
She knows who Shirley I start to tell him, but the
drunk has already pushed off from the cubicle. He doesnt
seem to be able to hold on to one thought for long.
This way, he tells himself, plunging towards the toilets.
The flight attendant Rosa spoke to walks down the
other aisle and crouches to talk to the woman the drunk
was harassing. We cant hear what she says, but soon the
woman gathers her things and follows the attendant to
the front of the plane.
Theyre putting her in first class, Rosa says. I did that.
I saved her. They should put me in first class too. That
should be my reward.
Its my turn to roll my eyes.
The McBrunights should have put us in first class,
Rosa says. Theyre rich. I bet they travel first class.

The McBrunights are Sally and Davids oldest friends.

Theyve all known each other since they were my age.
They are flying us to New York City to start a business.
My parents have started many businesses. They specialise
in it. They start them, then sell them and walk away.
Theyve moved her, but how are they going to punish
him, Che? I wish there was a plane jail.
Theyll probably spit in his coffee.
Thats not enough.
I was kidding, Rosa. They wont do that.
They should.
The world doesnt always work that way, little sister.
How doesnt the world work? Sally asks, leaning over
me to give Rosa a kiss. How are you two?
Business class is the best, Rosa says. I like rich-people
seats. Lets always fly like this.
Sally laughs. I wish.
You can get the McBrunights to pay, Rosa says.
Though you should tell them to put us in first class next
time.
Sally snorts.
I want to see it. Imagine how many buttons there
must be. Rosa pushes one to straighten the back of her
seat and then pushes it to make it go back down.

Youve tested all the buttons, I see.

Doesnt she always, I dont say.
David did the same thing and now hes sound asleep.
Sally and I exchange smiles. David can sleep anywhere.
Im going to watch all the movies, Rosa says.
Do you need to go to the toilet?
Sally! Rosa says. Im ten, not two. I can go by myself.
Sally holds her hands up. Fine. Fine. You can go by
yourself. She lowers her voice to whisper in my ear.
Keep an eye on her.
I always do.
Sally leans over to kiss Rosa, and then gives me a swift
hug. Get some sleep!
The reek of alcohol returns.
Hes a very bad man. Rosa watches him drop into his
seat. He hasnt been punished, she says, before closing
her eyes and falling asleep immediately. Just like David.
Across the aisle the drunk man has passed out. His
mouth is open. Im pretty sure hes snoring.
I start to work my way through the fight movies. I
think about all the stuff I told myself I wouldnt think
about. Like how were heading to New York City, not
home. How long itll be before I get to go back to Sydney.
How Im turning seventeen hours after we land. Its

going to be the worst birthday ever. Just me and Rosa

and the parentals.
Mostly I think about how Rosa is never going to
understand why I make her keep so many promises.
How can I make her see that being good isnt a game?
I cant sit still. The air smells like recycled plastic. I
drink the last of my water but my mouth stays dry.
As soon as Im sure Rosas deeply asleep I go to the
area between business and economy. The curtains are
drawn. Theres a white plastic bar with white plastic
stools that swivel. I pour myself more water, bracing my
foot against the base of the stool to stretch my calf. I
drink, switch legs, pour myself more. Four glasses later
and my tongue still sticks to the roof of my mouth.
I drop to the ground to do some push-ups. Just a
quick set of twenty. Im conscious that someone might
try to walk past, that Rosa might wake up.
I make a circuit of the business class cabin. David is
still sleeping. Sally is reading. She smiles when she sees
me, squeezes my hand, turns back to her book. Rosa
hasnt shifted position. Her mouth is slightly open, and
shes breathing softly and evenly. She looks like an angel.
I walk through economy where everyone is crammed
into tiny seats that barely go back, and yet most are

10

asleep. Ive never been able to sleep back here. Ive never
been able to sit still long enough, and I was always flying
with Rosa next to me, making me twitch as I waited for
whatever it was she was going to do next.
I didnt sleep last night, too worried about Rosa. I
stayed up most of the night talking to Georgie, Jason and
Nazeem; not talking about Rosa but knowing I could if I
needed to. Its going to be harder staying in touch from
New York. Sydney and Bangkok are only a few hours
apart, New York is more than half a day behind.
I do another circuit of business, worried that Ive left
Rosa alone too long. My heart starts to beat a little faster,
but there she is, still sound asleep. Sallys asleep now too.
Everyones asleep but me.
I watch another movie. There isnt a single fight in it.
Were going to be last off the plane. We always are,
because David doesnt believe in rushing. It doesnt
matter how close to jumping out of my skin I am, how
desperate to stretch my legs, to not be confined, to run,
we have to go at Davids pace.
As we finally step off the plane onto the air-bridge,
the drunken now hungover man, red in the face and
panting, pushes past us to get back on.

11

What a rude person, Sally says.

Rosa laughs.
I almost join her. Weve made it all this way without
Rosa doing anything.
After an hour of going through immigration and
claiming our luggage were ushered into the biggest car
Ive ever been in. Rosa and I sit in the back row. There
are TV screens and bottles of water and boxes of tissues
and bags of nuts. Its almost like being on the plane again.
I have an urge to scream.
The parentals sit in the middle row where theres a
little fridge and discuss whether wine is such a bad idea
and decide reluctantly that it is.
Rosa starts pushing buttons. I stare out the window
even though all I can see is the car parked beside us. My
eyes burn. Even my toenails are tired.
More rich-people buttons.
All cars have buttons for the windows, I mutter
without looking at her.
Not like
Raining out there, the diver calls from the front as
he starts the car. Might want to keep that window up.
Rosa puts up the window.

12

Once the car is out on a highway all we can hear is

the roar of the engine, the traffic, the wind rushing past.
I sink back, staring out at grim, wet darkness, punctuated
with occasional smears of coloured lights. I doubt Ill be
able to see the New York City skyline. Im not sure I care,
which kind of sucks.
Its going to be my seventeenth birthday in a bit over
an hour, which sucks worse: turning seventeen far from
home, without my friends.
I close my eyes and start to drift.
Want to see something? Rosa says right into my ear.
I startle. What? I ask, blinking.
Rosas grinning, which is never good. I am all the way
awake.
The window next to her is open a crack, spitting in
rain.
Close the window, Rosa.
She slides a small book out of her backpack, turning
it so I can see the front.
An Australian passport.
She opens it to the photo page: the horrible drunk
from the plane.
I lunge too late as Rosa pushes it out the window.
I win, Rosa says.

13

Chapter Two

Rosa is a ticking bomb.

I dont think it matters what you call it: psychopathy,
sociopathy, anti-social personality disorder, evil, the
devil within. What matters is how to prevent the bomb
from exploding.
It would be a lot easier if the parentals believed
Rosa is a bomb. It would be even easier if she simply
wasnt a bomb. Trust me, I would give anything for her
to not be the way she is. Rose ticks off everything on the
Psychopath Checklist except for promiscuity, driving
too fast and other related adult evils. Give her time.
The checklists there are different versions each
have dozens of questions designed to fit into different
factors. The four that make sense to me are:
Callousness. Rosa doesnt care about anyone but
herself.
Disinhibition. Rosa is impulsive. Her risk assessment
is terrible because she doesnt believe anything can

14

happen to her. If she wants something she takes it.

Fearlessness. Nothing scares her. Shes never worried.
Charisma. She has way too much.
Rosa is a ticking bomb and shes my responsibility.
My sister, the psychopath. My sister, the sociopath.
My sister, the anti-social personality disorder sufferer.
Though its not she who suffers, is it?
My sister Rosa was born when I was seven years old.
It was a home birth. I watched the whole thing, though
Nana and Papa worried it would traumatise me. There
was much shouting at David.
Hes a seven-year-old boy! Youll be paying his psychiatric bills for the rest of his life! Was it not bad enough
that you make him call you by your first names! How
will he learn respect! That poor boy doesnt even have
his fathers surname! This is not what our parents
survived the holocaust for! Making that poor little boy
watch his own sister being born!
Her birth didnt traumatise me.
Watching Rosa being born was amazing. Also boring.
Also scary. Beautiful too. Then boring again.
I watched Sally pace for hours, trying to get
comfortable. I sat in a bean bag the midwife brought

15

with her. I hoped we could keep it. It was orange and

made faint squeaking noises. I didnt know what to do.
The lights were dim, too dim to read the read the stack
of books beside me. Id just started reading chapter books.
I wasnt sure if it would be okay to play with my tablet.
Would it be too bright? Too many flashing lights? I didnt
want to get in trouble. I sat there and watched Sally pace.
David paced too. Occasionally he would pat my head,
which annoyed me, but I smiled, and wished there was
something I could to do to make Sally feel better.
The midwife explained everything as it happened to
Sally, answering her and Davids questions, telling them
about the contractions, timing how long it was between
them. I wasnt entirely sure what a contraction was,
though the parentals had told me many times. I didnt
think it would be okay to ask the midwife again.
The music was soft and lulling. The midwifes
voice was almost as soft and lulling as the music. I
fell asleep.
I woke up to Sally yelling, I hate this music! Someone
had put a blanket over me. My thumb was in my mouth.
I pulled it out, hoping no one had noticed. I was too old
to be sucking my thumb.
You chose David started.

16

What music would you like, Sally? the midwife asked.

Not this!
David changed it to Billie Holiday. Sally hated that
too. He kept changing the music until she nodded.
Elgars okay?
Sally laughed. Dont care.
I drifted off again to the sounds of cellos. When I
woke Sally was naked in the bathtub. She was smiling.
The music was gone.
Come here, Che.
I went over and Sally gave me a wet hug.
Does it still hurt?
She shook her head. Its nice in here.
Her belly was still enormous.
When will the baby come?
Sallys hand was on my head. Water dripped past my
ear and down my neck.
I dont know. But shes closer than she was. Youll
have a sister.
I knew that. I was excited about it.
Sally groaned. I love you, Che.
David kissed me and told me to get something to eat.
Sally grabbed his hand. I went back to the beanbag. I
wasnt hungry.

17

I fell asleep again. When I woke Sally was out

of the bath and David was massaging her lower
back, pushing her hips together to ease the pain.
She was laughing at something David or the midwife
said.
It was ten hours since wed called for the midwife.
I fell asleep again. I woke to Sally screaming, I cant!
I cant! I cant! Make it stop!
Every time she screamed my eyes filled with tears. I
wished there was something I could do.
She was standing, leaning with her forearms on the
bed, and Davids hand gripped tightly in hers. On the
floor between Sallys feet was a mirror.
The midwife smiled at me. Do you want to see, Che?
Shes crowning.
I crept closer, scared of getting in the way. In the
mirror I could see something dark and slimy between
Sallys legs. It didnt look like a babys head. It kind of
looked like a monster.
Sally screamed louder. Get it out of me!
Here she is!
Rosa shot out so fast she was a blur. The midwife
caught her. David and I gasped. I looked down.
She was so little, so perfect, with the biggest eyes Id

18

ever seen, looking straight at me. I couldnt stop staring.

It made my heart hurt.
I started crying and that turned into hiccuped sobs. I
couldnt stop.
The midwife put Rosa on Sallys belly and Sally
cradled the tiny baby in her hands. They were almost
bigger than Rosa.
David patted Rosas back. I had this huge tight feeling
in my chest. Love. I was full of love for this tiny little
creature person.
Shes beautiful, the midwife said. Congratulations.
She gave David scissors to cut the umbilical cord,
which looked like a pink and blue rope. It seemed to
pulse.
Sally smiled at me.
Tears were still pouring out of my eyes but I wasnt
sobbing. It almost felt like the tears had nothing to do
with me. Can I touch her?
Of course.
I reached out to touch her tiny hand. Her fingers
curled around my index finger. My heart hurt even
more.
Youre going to have to look out for Rosa, you know,
Sally told me.

19

Protect her from the world, David said. Youre her

big brother.
Protect the world from her, he didnt say.
How patriarchal of you, Sally said with no heat at all.
She blew David a kiss and then bowed her head.
We were all staring at tiny Rosa.

20

Author photo by Niki Bern

JUSTINE LARBALESTIER is the author of Razorhurst,

which won the Aurealis Award for Best Horror Novel
and was shortlisted for both the NSW and Victorian
Premiers Literary Awards, and Liar, which won the
YA Western Australian Premiers book award, the
YA Sisters in Crime Davitt Award and was shortlisted
for the CBCA Older Readers award, among many
other honours. She also edited the collection
Zombies Versus Unicorns with Holly Black.
Justine lives in Sydney where she gardens, boxes, and
watches too much cricket, and sometimes in New York
City where she wanders about public parks hoping theyll
let her do some gardening and misses cricket a lot.

justinelarbalestier.com

Vivid and bloody and bold and fast I feel like Razorhurst
is in my bones now. E LIZABETH G ILBERT

A timeless tale of love and violence in long-lost

Razorhurst with characters I truly cared about.
M ELINA M ARCHETTA

Sure, it is shiny and chilly and bloody and sharp,

like the razor of the title, but Larbalestiers book is also
magical and glamorous. Everything comes together
in a surprising, gory, inevitable ending from one
of the smartest writers in YA fiction.
E. L OCKHART , author of We Were Liars, on Razorhurst

A bloody and evocative novel, written in clean and lively

prose. Sydney Morning Herald on Razorhurst

It is rare to find a psychological thriller that succeeds

at a high levelLiar combines superb storytelling with
questions about truth and lies that will engage and
tease the reader. Bookseller & Publisher

Liar is a very clever book that will confound its readers

until the very last pages and beyondAll we can do is
to be thankful to Larbalestier for allowing us to be swept
away by her marvelous web of lies. The Canberra Times

Characters both living and dead reveal crucial pieces

of the plot slowly over the course of one harrowing day.
Larbalestier pulls no punches with the gruesome, gory
details about the violence of poverty, and the result
is a dark, unforgettable and blood-soaked tale of
outlaws and masterminds. Kirkus on Razorhurst

Rosa had never killed anything as big

as a hamster. She was scaling up. That hamster

had been three or four times the size of the sparrow.
I didnt want to think about what was three
or four times the size of a hamster.
Che Taylors little sister Rosa is smart, talented, pretty
and so good at deception that Ches convinced she must
be a psychopath. She hasnt hurt anyone yet, but hes certain
its just a matter of time. Its up to Che to protect Rosa
from the world and the world from Rosa.
After their parents move them to New York City to launch
yet another exciting new business, Che longs to return home
to Sydney and his three best friends. But he cant leave Rosa
behind who else can keep her from unleashing her worst?
And with so many opportunities in Manhattan for Rosa
to play her increasingly complex and disturbing games,
will his efforts be enough?
A gripping psychological thriller from the
bestselling author of Liar and Razorhurst.

Publication date: February 2016

ISBN: 978 176011 222 6 Format: Paperback

Aust. price: $19.99 NZ price: $24.99
This is an extract from My Sister Rosa by Justine Larbalestier
and is for promotional use only. Not for resale.