Page 149 of The Vanishing Place
Effie jumped away from her.
“She tried to grab me,” Anya yelled. Her eyes were wild, honed on Effie. “She was trying to—”
The door slammed open and Adam appeared. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”
Anya threw herself at him, clinging to his arm.
Adam stroked the tufts of her red hair, then he peeled the girl from his body and pushed her behind him. Effie tried to scramble farther away, but her back met with the wall and she winced. Adam eyed her as he stepped across the room, his face expressionless, and Effie’s pulse raced. Then slowly, he bent down and slapped her hard across the face.
“Never touch my daughter.”
He stood and walked back to the door, kicking over the bowl of lentils as he passed. He turned back at the last moment, his voice dark.
“You’ve earned yourself another twenty-four hours of alone time to reflect.”
Effie flinched as the key clicked in the door, her heart aching.
2025
The thought oftrying to stand brought a new heaviness to Effie’s limbs.
She sat on the floor, unmoved since Adam had left with the girl, and stared at the door. For a while, feet moved and chairs scraped on the other side of the wall. Voices filtered through—a child’s laugh and a male chuckle—but eventually, the front door slammed shut and the hut went quiet.
And Effie was alone.
Thirst crept through her, coating her tongue and mouth. Groaning, she stretched out and reached for the overturned jug.
The chain clattered along the floor as she inched herself forward. She just needed a sip. Just a few remaining drips, anything to purge the thirst from the insides of her cheeks. Effie held the jug to her lips and tipped it upside down. Trickles of water dripped onto her face and neck, and she opened her mouth, licking at the plastic.
“Ouch.”
Effie flinched as something hard hit her front tooth. She looked down to where a small item had fallen to the floor.
A key.
Effie inhaled as the realization hit her.Anya. Anya had left the key in the jug. Effie’s fingers trembled as she grabbed for it, thenshe pulled the padlock around her ankle. The key shook as she tried to fit it into the small hole.
Breathe, Effie.
Her hands steadier, the key glided in and the padlock clicked open.
“Oh god.” Effie pressed a hand across her mouth. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you, Anya.” She let out a breath of laughter. “Thank you. You wonderful, brilliant little girl.”
Anya had given Effie a key and twenty-four hours.To reflect. To pull herself together and get them both out.
2025
Effie sat onthe bed—unchained—staring at the door.
Ready.
She’d eaten the chunk of bread as well as some of the spilled lentils from the floor, and she’d salvaged a tablespoon of water from the cup. Her feet and ankle were wrapped in scraps of fabric from the sheets, and she’d pulled on the few items of clothing she had. It was still summer, but at night, the bush was cold, and her drained body shivered at its edges. Not her stomach though—it was filled with fire.
Sometime after dark, someone had returned to the hut. There had been a shuffling of furniture and a flicker of light under the door, but nothing else. No food. No grunted insults or thumps on the door. But they would come. In the morning, the door would open, and they would come. And Effie would be ready. Minutes ticked away, then hours, and Effie closed her eyes. Resting. But not sleeping.
Her eyes flicked open at the first soft knock.
Tap. Tap.
