In the final week before the unimaginable tragedy that claimed the lives of an entire family — parents Jarrod Clune, 50, and Maiwenna Goasdoue, 49, along with their teenage sons Leon, 16, and Otis, 14 — one of the two boys posed an eerie, seemingly innocent question about “long school absences” in a way that struck the teacher as oddly unusual at the time. No one pieced together the dark implication until it was far too late.
The teacher, speaking anonymously amid the raw pain of hindsight, recounted how the boy — one of the brothers described by friends and support workers as having significant health challenges and autism — approached with curiosity that now feels prophetic. The question wasn’t casual chit-chat about sick days or family holidays. It carried a strange weight, an almost probing tone that lingered in the educator’s memory like a ghost. “It was phrased in such a peculiar way,” the teacher later shared in a heartbreaking reflection. “Looking back, it haunts me — was he trying to understand something bigger? Was he preparing himself for an absence that would never end?”
At the time, the query flew under the radar. Teachers field countless odd questions from teenagers navigating adolescence, especially those facing extra hurdles like disabilities. No alarms rang. No red flags waved. The family appeared to be managing, albeit under strain, in their lavish Mott Close mansion — a $1.4 million home in one of Perth’s most exclusive leafy suburbs. But behind closed doors, the pressure was mounting to unbearable levels.
The bodies were discovered on Friday morning, January 30, 2026, after a concerned visitor found a handwritten note taped to the front door: a stark warning not to enter and to call police immediately. Officers entered the residence and were met with a scene police described as “highly distressing” — four deceased family members in separate parts of the house, alongside three family pets also lifeless. Homicide detectives quickly classified it as a suspected double murder-suicide, with evidence pointing to the parents killing their sons before taking their own lives.
A second, more “critical” note was later uncovered inside the home, allegedly detailing the parents’ anguished reasoning. Friends and support workers have since come forward with devastating claims: the family had recently faced cuts to their NDIS (National Disability Insurance Scheme) funding, leaving them overwhelmed by the high-needs care required for Leon and Otis. “They felt like they had no other choice,” one close contact told reporters, voice breaking. The boys’ disabilities were described as significant, demanding round-the-clock support that strained every resource. Whispers of bloodstains at the rear of the property only deepened the horror.
The teacher’s recollection of that final-week question has ignited furious debate: Were there subtle cries for help that went unheard? Did the boy sense the family’s despair, perhaps overhearing hushed conversations about an uncertain future? Or was it a heartbreaking coincidence — a teenager pondering extended breaks from school amid mounting home chaos?
The community remains in stunned disbelief. Floral tributes pile up outside the Mott Close gate, notes of love and sorrow fluttering in the breeze. Neighbors who once waved hello now grapple with guilt: “How did we miss the signs?” one resident asked, tears streaming. The suburb’s usual tranquility — manicured lawns, luxury cars, quiet affluence — has been shattered by a tragedy that feels almost unimaginable in such a privileged enclave.
Federal Disability Minister Mark Butler called it an “unspeakable tragedy” during a tense press conference, facing pointed questions about NDIS support levels and whether funding shortfalls played a role in pushing the family to the brink. WA Premier Roger Cook echoed the grief, labeling the deaths “devastating” and pledging reviews into disability services. Calls for greater support for families caring for high-needs children have surged, with advocates warning that this could be a warning sign of a broken system failing those who need it most.
Yet amid the policy debates and public outrage, the teacher’s words cut deepest: that one boy’s question about long school absences now echoes like a scream in the silence. What did he know? What was he really asking? And why did no one connect the dots until the house on Mott Close became a tomb?
As investigations continue — autopsies pending, notes analyzed, timelines reconstructed — the nation watches in horror and heartbreak. This wasn’t just a family tragedy; it was a family’s final, desperate act amid invisible struggles. The question that teacher will never forget may hold the key to understanding how despair can hide in plain sight, waiting for someone to listen before it’s too late.
The pain ripples outward, a stark reminder that even in the most beautiful homes, darkness can take root when support runs dry. Prayers pour in for Leon, Otis, Maiwenna, and Jarrod — and for a system that must do better before another family reaches the same unthinkable end.