Page 9 of The Vanishing Place

“This is mad.” Blair hobbled across Effie’s small kitchen. “You get that, right? That this is totally mad?”

Effie lifted the kettle and poured two cups of tea. “Milk?”

“You can’t just get on a plane to New Zealand. It’s like…” Blair shook her head at the milk bottle. “Like a really fucking long way.”

Effie carried the mugs through to the living room, and Blair limped after her.

“And this Lewis guy. I mean, what do you even know about him?”

“We grew up together.” She smiled. “You’d like him.”

“Oh, I’d like him.” Blair rolled her eyes. “Well then, that’s just peachy. You just jump on a plane to the other side of the planet and go meet some guy you haven’t seen in fifteen years.”

“Seventeen.” Effie sipped her tea. “Seventeen years.”

“And what?” Blair’s eyes widened. “Just cos some random kid appears from the trees, you’re off to help? Don’t they have other police officers in New Zealand? Or other people who can talk to trees?”

Effie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t talk to trees.”

Blair sat on the other sofa, ignoring her, and Rimu nuzzled into Blair’s legs.

“Traitor,” said Effie.

“Is this about Greg?” Blair asked. “Is that what you’re running from?”

“No. It’s got nothing to do with Greg,” said Effie. “And I’m not running. In fact, for the first time in my life, I think I might actually be doing the exact opposite.”

“You’ve got nothing to prove by going back there. You know that, right?”

“Bee…”

“You survived the bush, and then you escaped. You moved on. What good is there in going back?”

“It might help a little girl.”

“That’s bullshit. You can help little girls here.” Blair leaned in. “Either you’ve gone mad or you’re hiding something.”

Effie stared into her mug, then looked out the window at the sea loch and the heavy sky.

She had only ever shared parts of her past with Blair.

More than she’d told anyone else, but still, just parts.

Blair knew the bush-girl story, the neglected kid who’d grown up in the wild.

But the worst bits—the darkness that had slithered into their lives after her mum died—those Effie had locked away.

She focused on the salt loch. There was barely any difference between the water and the sky, like a bleak watercolor of gray and charcoal.

“It’s not some random case,” said Effie as she turned back to look at Blair. “Not some random child.”

Her friend frowned.

“Lewis said that the kid looks just like me.”

Confusion, then shock, spread through Blair’s features. “Wait, how old did you say she was?”

“Around eight,” said Effie, smiling slightly. “Don’t worry, she’s not mine.”

“Right.” Blair let out a breath. “Okay.”

“Although I think we might be related somehow. And Lewis thinks that she’s come from the hut.”

“Shit.” Blair looked suddenly serious. “And she was covered in blood?”

Effie nodded. Then she squeezed her mug, needing something to occupy her fingers. “Blair, there’s something that I—”

“You and Lewis,” interrupted Blair, “why didn’t you keep in contact?”

Effie glanced back at the window. “We couldn’t.”

She didn’t say anything else, and Blair didn’t push it. She simply reached forward and lifted her mug from the table. And for a few quiet seconds, they just sat like that.

“Shit,” said Blair eventually.

“Yes.” Effie managed a small smile. “Shit, indeed.” She took a breath before continuing. “And Lewis thinks my dad might be involved with whatever horrible thing happened to her.”

“Jesus.” Blair puffed out her cheeks, her eyes wide, then she exhaled loudly. “Right.”

“I need to go back,” said Effie. “I need to find out what happened to my family.”

There was a beat of silence.

“And you’ll need someone to watch Rimu.”

“And I’ll need someone to watch Rimu.”