Page 92 of The Vanishing Place
“In case it’s not all some scam.”
“Suit yourself.”
Effie looked away, the itch in her muscles making her legs quiver, then she stood up.
“I’m going to get some fresh air. It smells like bleach and sick in here.”
She paused, her fingers curled around the arm of the chair, unable to move away.
“I’ll watch them,” said June.
“Just no…” Effie wavered, “no praying over them.”
“Just watching. I promise.”
She walked to the door, pulling her jacket around her, then stepped into the clear night. The icy breeze tunneled through her, leaking through every seam in her jacket. Drawing her shoulders to her ears, Effie looked through the dark, and there he was, his hands tucked under his armpits, pacing near the road.
Of course he was there.
Lewis stopped the moment she spotted him, his face paled by the moon, then he strode across the empty carpark. Without speaking, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her steady, and she pressed her face into his chest.
“I’m sorry, Effie. I’m so sorry.”
“He was good.” She sniffed.
“I know.” Lewis pulled her closer. “I know.”
2025
An elderly coupleslowed as they walked past the police car, watching Effie as she opened the door and sat in the back seat.
“The locals know who you are,” said Morrow from the driver’s seat.
“I think they’re working it out,” Effie replied.
“It wasn’t a question.” Morrow smiled in the rearview mirror.
Lewis reached across, touching a hand to Effie’s thigh.
“That little performance on the bridge,” she continued, “the forgotten bush girl saving the bush child—I’ve heard it from every imaginable angle. Which, I must say, is particularly impressive, given that the entire event was concealed by rain.” She gave a soft snort. “One kid thought that you were both going to jump. He reckoned the river was going to take you back to your tree homes. Forest people, he called you.”
Effie forced a tight smile.
“I don’t imagine it’s easy to keep secrets around here,” said Morrow.
“Apparently not.”
“So.” Morrow looked into the mirror. “No one in Koraha knew you’d left the bush?”
“Just Lewis.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
“And forgive me,” Morrow gave a small shake of the head, “I’ve heard a lot of speculation over the past few days. Why was it that you left?”
Effie stiffened, her tone cold. “Is this an interview?”
