Sitting in the house where my grandfather left me locked up, which was definitely more lived in than the old cabin, so I can only assume it is his home. Pictures line the walls, the shelves. Family. Everywhere. This man was a family man, that much was clear. I could see similarities in their features, in myself, my father, even in Lachlan to some degree. Though I did not know his face particularly well, not having looked at him too much, being a moody bastard and getting on my nerves the way he did, why would I want to look at him?!

Finding it difficult to keep looking at the...