Page 61 of The Vanishing Place

Tia’s muffled screams —guttural and terrified—leaked under the door.

Effie scrambled forward but the chain held tight, striking against her damaged ankle.

“ Let her go ,” she screamed. “Let her go!”

Effie yanked so violently that the stabs of pain, of steel grinding on bruised bone, winded her.

“Stop,” she panted. “Please.”

But Tia’s cries didn’t stop. Her moans penetrated the walls. Then there was a shriek, followed by a soft thud. And for a moment it went silent. Effie clenched her teeth, her eyes filling with tears, and she strained her ears.

“Tia?”

Then just as quickly as it had gone silent, the sounds returned. It wasn’t the same desperate shouting—there was no energy left in her sister’s pleas—but a persistent thumping and scraping.

A dragging.

Each thump pulsed in Effie’s chest, and she forced herself not to cover her ears. She forced herself to listen to every sound. It was all that Effie could do for her sister. Finally, the front door slammed shut, the bang vibrating through the shadows, and the hut fell silent.

For a moment, Effie didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Then eventually, she stretched her fingers out toward the door and whispered into the dark.

“Tia. Are you there?”

But there was no answer.

Tia was gone.

Effie had failed her.

Again.