The Vanishing Place: Read an Extract

16 October 2025

** THE INSTANT NUMBER ONE INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER **

‘A sizzling debut’ – NEW YORK TIMES
‘A genuinely thrilling ride’ – LISA GARDNER
‘A page-turner that I finished in one sitting’ – PATRICIA WOLF

One girl escaped. But the forest took another…

A young girl wanders into the small town of Koraha, her hands stained with blood. She won’t speak, but her path is tracked through New Zealand’s unforgiving wilderness to a cabin – and the scene of a double murder.

The townsfolk know this cabin; it has a violent history. Twenty years ago, another girl was forced to flee, leaving her siblings and father behind. But now that her family’s secrets have led to more victims, Effie has no choice but to return to the bush and face the truth of what happened there… and why she ran.

Flooded with atmosphere and full of twists, The Vanishing Place is perfect for readers of Lucy Clarke, Liz Moore and Chris Whitaker.

It was after seven o’clock when Effie drove her rental car into Koraha. A rental car implied a short stay. A quick visit, then back to her real life.

For the last hour, she’d driven through the wildness of the Haast Pass, the remote roads bending through mountains and bush. The beauty of the country was mesmerising – even after everything. It was like breathing fresh air, like her untamed blood had been craving it. But Effie had to stop as she neared the Roaring Billy Falls, afraid that the shake in her arms might make her veer off the road. She’d pulled onto the verge, her heart racing as she glanced over at the bush. There was nothing to see from the road, just trees and a jagged skyline, but she knew the trail to the falls off by heart. She knew the sweet smell of the podocarp forest and the feel of tawhai bark. A world of a thousand greens, where trees rose to the sky like gods.

As she’d sat in the car with her fingers gripping the steering wheel, she’d pictured the moss-cloaked matai and the towering miro trees. Just a ten-minute walk would have taken her to the Haast River. Then a boat across the water and a six-hour tramp through dense bush would have taken her to the Roaring Billy River crossing and the hut. The barbed silence moved through her, as if the blades of silver fern traced her skin, then she started up the engine and drove off.

Now Effie sat in her rental in the driveway, unsure if she could get out. Eventually, a figure appeared a few metres in front of the car, walking straight at her. Effie stared through the windscreen. Her hair was still long, the silver falling to her waist, but the once voluminous strands had thinned and dried out.

Effie stepped from the car and walked straight into the woman’s arms.

‘I’ve missed you, baby girl.’

‘I’ve missed you too, June.’ Effie clung to her, just like she’d done as a child. ‘I’m sorry that I–’

‘Hush, now.’ June gave her a final squeeze then pulled away.

‘We’ll have none of that. Grab your bags,’ she said. ‘Kettle’s on, and I’ve made Afghan biscuits.’

‘You baked?’

June smiled, her weathered skin crinkling around her eyes. ‘I’ve learned a few things in seventeen years.’

Seventeen years.

‘Come on. There’s real food too.’

Effie grabbed her one rucksack from the car – just a quick visit – and followed June inside. The small house had barely changed; it was like stepping back in time. The same floral sofa, complete with arm protectors, and the same red countertops in the kitchen.

‘So, is there any more news on the girl?’ asked Effie as she took a seat at the cluttered kitchen bench.

‘Let me see you eat something first,’ said June, dishing up two plates. ‘Dinner and an Afghan. Then I’ll answer your questions.’

Effie couldn’t help but smile as she dug into her lamb and three veg. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was. She lifted her head and glanced past June towards the back screen door. June must have replaced the mesh. Obviously. Effie had ripped it to shreds.

‘So,’ said June. ‘Ask away.’

‘Where is she?’ asked Effie. ‘The girl.’

‘At the clinic. I’ll take you there tomorrow.’

‘And Lewis?’

June smiled. ‘He’s there too.’

‘What exactly do we know about her?’

‘Not much. She turned up at the supermarket on Friday morning searching for something to eat. Poor child was famished.’

‘Where did she come from?’

June glanced down at her plate, then her eyes flickered towards the window. ‘From the bush.’

‘Are you sure? I mean, Lewis said she won’t talk.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘How?’