Page 132 of The Vanishing Place
“This place will kill you,” she stuttered. “No one ever leaves here…he’s made sure of that.” She paused. “This is the vanishing place.”
Effie pulled against her restraints. “That’s not true. Anya got out—your daughter got out.”
There was a loud thud as Tia slumped on the other side of the door. Effie could feel her, the presence of her sister’s body, as Tia pressed against the wood.
“Anya?” Tia panted. “You’ve seen her? You’ve seen Anya?”
“Yes. Anya’s safe. She’s in Koraha. She’s with June and Lewis.”
“Oh god.” Tia exhaled. “She’s okay?”
“Yes.” Effie smiled through tears. “Your little girl’s okay.”
Tia broke then. She dissolved into sobs and half-uttered words. “He told me he had Anya,” she said. “He said if I ever disappointed him again, he would kill her. That’s why…why I couldn’t…”
Tia stopped and there was a fumbling sound as she stood up. Then there was the clunk of a key turning in the lock and the handle shook.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Tia, her slight figure appearing in the doorway. “I only have a key for the door. I don’t have—”
“You’re alive. You’re really alive.”
Tia sat on the floor next to Effie and reached out and traced the sides of Effie’s face with her fingers. Effie pulled her sister into her. Tia was nothing but bones, her ribs jutting out like the rungs of a ladder, her hair falling down to her tailbone.
“I’ve missed you,” said Tia.
Effie clung to her little sister. “Who’s done this to you?” she spluttered. “Was it Dad?”
Tia pulled away and shook her head. “Dad’s dead, Effie.”
“What?”
“He disappeared, just after you.” Tia sat hunched over and tucked her knees into her chest. “What Dad did…it broke him, and he left. He left us. Just two kids, alone in the bush with a body.”
Guilt stabbed Effie’s chest, and she pressed into it with her fist.
“When Dad eventually returned,” Tia continued, “the others were already here, and I’d…I’d already started to hate him.” She wiped her eyes. “They shot at Dad when he turned up, and threatened to kill him if he ever came back.” Her voice softened. “But he did come back. Every year, on my birthday, he came back and left something for me by the river. But I never took it. I never spoke to him. And then it was too late.” Tia swallowed. “We were both wrong about him. Dad tried to save me from this, but I didn’t listen.”
“I don’t understand, Tia. What happened here?”
“For so long, I thought I was in love. I thought I was doing the right thing. Then one day, I woke up and I realized I was a prisoner. And that it was all too late.”
“What was too late?” asked Effie. “Who’s done this to you?”
“To us,” whispered Tia. “There were eight of us.”
“Here?”
“There’s another hut farther up,” she said. “A couple of kilometers, maybe. For the men. And for Dinah.”
Effie inhaled, the core of her suddenly cold. “Dinah?”
“His daughter.”
“Whose daughter?”
“His name is Peter,” said Tia. “The Guardian.” She hesitated. “But there’s something else, Effie. Something that you—”
She stopped abruptly, the sudden quiet robbing the air from Effie’s chest.
