He was lying and she knew it. He was doing that thing with his eyebrow that he always did when he lied. His left eyebrow – that incomplete one – the one he told her had been eaten by a rat when they were children in that awful house of his childhood. She hadn't believed him then either. Her entire life with him had been like climbing into the void in the dark without a scaffold, and now he had lost their daughter. Mia tried to remember she'd loved him once, achingly, with all her stupid young heart, with such intensity and assurance it was forever. She looked at him now, smoothing that half-eaten brow like he could stroke it back into existence, and raised one of hers, hands on hips. 

‘Bullshit.' She said, ‘And stop with the brow thing already. You're making me ill.'

He placed both hands behind his back and grinned. ‘It doesn't hurt, I've told you. There's no feeling there at all. Like after a burn, the scar grows and numbs you.'

‘I don't care about you playing with your face. I just know there's no way our daughter would take off on a road trip without a word to me. Where is she? And why did you wait a whole day to call me?'

‘Mia.' He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tried not to flinch. ‘She knew you'd react like this. I mean. You're going off at me like it's my fault. She's been planning this for months. I wasn't happy about it either, but she's eighteen and that's what she wants. You can't lock her up forever.'

‘Is that what you think I do, Mr Part-Time Dad? You swan in with expensive gifts once a month while I work two jobs and try to be mum and dad to make up for the fact that you can't be arsed living in the same town as us. And now I'm supposed to believe she confided in you and is on her way to Broome? Also, she's nineteen. You'd know that if you hadn't missed her eighteenth. I still can't believe you forgot.'

‘Mia. I've said sorry so often I can't even – Roxy understands, I tell you.'

She turned her back on him and called Roxane one more time. Straight to message bank again.

 

Brad Atkins was tired. He'd spent the last three weeks in a makeshift town so remote they didn't have a name for it yet. They'd found gold, a lot of it, and they were keeping it quiet. Brad liked to think he would have been a happy prospector back in the 1890s, making his fortune with his bare hands, digging, washing, smelting. Back then, they wouldn't have had a job description for what he did now. When Roxane was little, he told her he was a party planner and had thrilled to see her laugh and tell all her friends. He was never around to plan any parties, but that didn't worry her. And now she was gone. He did have plans for the week with her and she'd been happy with them, he thought. Mia was right dammit. He was lying. His daughter had disappeared on his watch and he had no idea what to do. He looked at her number and scrolled through photos she'd sent over the years, trying to remember how to track her phone. She lacked her generation's obsession with social media and was untraceable on any hip hop tik tok mish mash site. Where was she? And how was he going to get her back? There was no other option. He had to call Jed.

 

Roxane looked at her phone and the eight missed calls from her mother. One from Dad. Typical. She'd already turned off location history and reporting after that geek in Jurien Bay showed her. Neither of her parents would be able to track her phone anyway. They wouldn't know how. Always yelling at each other about who was the better parent. Like she cared. Especially her mum with her endless, I work two jobs so you don't have to litany and the sacrifices she'd made and Oh God. At least Dad was real. Shrugged and scratched that non-brow of his and said he was working on it. Whatever that was. She didn't mind. Of course she didn't say any of this to that nice old couple in the motorhome who'd taken her as far as Geraldton. She'd been all yes please and thank you so much and this is so lovely of you. She assured them her mates who lived in Gerro were coming to pick her up and then they were all going to Exmouth. Their cautions filling her head as she waited on the bench outside the servos. She watched the old guys fill up while the little old ladies went to the loo or inside the shop. She figured out the ones most likely to say little and drop her off at the next town. After just three days away she was beginning to feel the lack of sleep and the hyper vigilance. She wasn't stupid. But she was tired.

 

Jed looked across the mostly empty carpark to where the girl sat on a bench. He'd know her anywhere, even if he didn't have a dozen photos sent by a frantic Brad. She looked like a young Mia, same brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, same slouch, same unnerving stare as he strolled towards her, trying to look unthreatening.

‘Roxane?' She turned sharply at the sound of her name. Jed moved her backpack and sat down beside her.

‘Who are you?'

‘Jed. My name's Jed Atkins. I'm related to your dad.'

‘Yeah right.' She snatched her backpack from his hand and stood up.

‘Honestly, Roxane. Call your dad. Here.' He handed her his phone while tapping Brad's number for a video call. Before she had time to think, her father's face appeared on the screen in her hand, his voice saying, ‘Roxy?' 

She started shaking. 

Jed leaned over and spoke. ‘She's okay. I've got her. Please say something, Roxane.'

‘Dad?'

‘Love, please come back. Your mum's worried sick and I am too. You're not in trouble. Just come back.'

‘I'm sorry dad.' 

‘It's okay darling. Really. I'll be waiting and I'll tell Mia you're safe.'

Jed took the phone she held out, picked up her backpack and walked towards a muddy white ute with Kalgoorlie numberplates.

Roxane matched strides with the man beside her. ‘How did you?'

He shrugged. ‘It's my job.'

‘To find runaway girls?'

‘Yeah.'

They drove in silence for about an hour and when Jed looked sideways, he saw she'd fallen asleep, hands on lap, hair falling across her face. 

Jed called Brad. ‘We're on our way. And she's fine. Really.'

‘Thanks mate. I owe you one.'

‘No worries Dad. Good luck telling Mia about this.'