Page 55 of The Vanishing Place
Another nod.
“With Four?”
Anya shook her head.
“With your mum?”
A nod.
Effie closed her eyes. “Is your mum…is your mum’s name Tia?”
Anya nodded, and a flood of emotions filled Effie’s chest, choking her.
She swallowed. “I really am your aunty.”
Anya looked at her, then she turned over so her back was to Effie.
“Sorry, I…” She stared at the child half-made of her sister.
Effie burned to know where Tia was, to know if she was still alive, but she couldn’t ask, not yet. It was too much for the child. And every minute that passed worried her. They needed to get away from the hut. Effie glanced back at Four and took a breath, needing to think like a police officer. To focus on the dried blood and theabsence of a knife, and what that meant. On who or what might still be in the trees, watching them.
“Anya,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, but we can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
The muscles stiffened beneath the child’s paper-thin skin, holding her to the spot.
“I know I said I would take you home. And we will come back, I promise,” said Effie. “But first, we need to get help. We need to find out what happened here and to make it safe for you.”
Anya rolled over and stared at her, her green eyes wide and cautious, taking in Effie’s every word. She was clever—Effie had witnessed multiple examples of her intelligence; the girl wasn’t confused or intellectually stunted. But she was traumatized, and she was naive, and that made her unpredictable. Vulnerable.
“I’m a police officer,” said Effie. “Like Lewis. So it’s my job to help people and to keep them safe. And right now, to keep you safe, I need to take you back to Koraha. Just for a short while. Then other police officers, like me, can come and find out what happened to Four.”
The trees rustled outside, and a branch rattled against the roof.
“Then, if you want, you can come back here.”
Anya tilted her head to the side, her big green eyes seeming to look straight through Effie.
“Do you know where your mum is?” Effie asked gently.
She waited. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then the girl shook her head.
Effie swallowed the stab of disappointment, then slowly she held out her hand.
“I promise,” she said, knowing she shouldn’t. “I promise to help you find her. But now we need to leave.”
Without a word, the girl stood and walked past her. Then she opened the door, and Effie followed her out to the deck.
“I need to go back in,” said Effie. “Just for a few minutes.”
No response.
“Just stay here.” She pointed toward a chair with a blanket hung over the arm. “But if you see anything, anything at all, shout for me.”
Silently, Anya turned and sat down. She pulled the blanket over her legs. Next to the chair was a box of coloring pencils, crayons and paper. The girl pulled one of the sheets of paper out and started to draw a cross in the top corner, just like the one carved into Four’s chest. It occurred to Effie then that everything here belonged to Anya. The chair, the blanket, the crayons—they were all hers. This was her home.
“I won’t be long,” said Effie as the girl drew two more crosses.
