Infectious laughter echoed around the house. My son Jack, 17, was so excited about schoolies.
He’d just graduated from high school and, when he wasn’t working hard as a flooring apprentice, he was out with friends on the Gold Coast where we lived.
My boy, known to everyone as Jacko, was bursting with life. But my husband Brett, then 49, sat him down in November 2019 before schoolies.
‘Surfers Paradise isn’t like it used to be. People carry knives,’
‘Just tell me Jack’s okay,’ I said desperately
Brett said, having seen horror
