Chapter 69

The whack against the back of his head snapped Chris's attention back to the arena and the game at hand. Craning his head, Chris scowled as he saw the culprit, his sister Naomi. Wearing a baby in a chest sling, she smirked at him.

"Hey, little brother."

"What was that for?" He rubbed his noggin. Not that her little tap hurt. But still... For a girl who screamed loud and often about her delicate sensibilities, his sister possessed a rough streak.

"Pay attention to the game. My mates are playing."

"So?"

A moment later the reason came clear as a missile sailed across the partition glass, the white, Indian rubber ball whistling past his head.