“I—” Evangeline gulped for air. She’d barely managed to survive the first time. Could she voluntarily enter such a dark confined space again? She slid a slipper forward and shuddered when the tip of her foot disappeared into the inky murk. Her lungs hitched and her limbs melted. Oh, Lord. She couldn’t. Shecouldn’t.
“Rachel? Rebecca?” came Mr. Lioncroft’s deep voice, followed by the shuffling of his large booted feet as he edged back into view.
“Down that way,” Evangeline said, panting with terror but pointing in the right direction.
“Why didn’t you go to them?” The shadows were too dense to read his expression, but there was no mistaking the anger in his tone.
“I—” she said again and faltered, unable to complete the thought even to herself.
He was already gone, slipping down the narrow passageway toward a child’s soft whimpers. After several long heart-stopping moments, he returned with a dusty blond moppet clinging to his neck.
“Rebecca?” Evangeline asked.
“No. Rachel. She was alone.”
“Oh. Where’s Rebecca?”
“I don’t know. Rachel says she doesn’t know, either.”
“Rachel, where did you and Rebecca get separated?”
The little girl’s eye’s widened. “I don’t know where.”
Mr. Lioncroft’s tone gentled. “That’s all right, sweetheart. We just need to know how to find her.”
“She’s lost. Like I was lost.”
Evangeline stood there, feeling stupid and cowardly and useless.
“You weren’t lost together?” she asked.
“We were, but then Rebecca dropped her dolly and wouldn’t come back without it. I couldn’t find the dolly and then I couldn’t find Rebecca and then I couldn’t find my way back out.”
Tears streamed from Rachel’s dirty cheeks to Mr. Lioncroft’s cravat. He made no move to set her down, and instead only held her closer. “Is she in the same section where I found you?”
“No. I made lots of turns. Lots and lots of turns. I think.”
“Do you remember which ones?”
Rachel shook her head miserably.
“Damn it.” Mr. Lioncroft’s jaw flexed.
Evangeline swallowed her panic as best she could. Ignoring the still-raging tempest storming in the back of her skull, she reached for the little girl.
“Come here,” she coaxed softly. “Let me hold you. Just for a second.”
“I’ve got her.” Mr. Lioncroft’s eyes were cold, hard. He was no doubt disgusted with her cowardice, her inability to go after Rachel instead of standing dumb at the entrance, her apparent apathy about the welfare of his nieces.
“No. I mean…please. Just let me touch her.”
“Miss Pemberton, I don’t have time for this. A five-year-old girl is lost. If you have no wish to help locate her, then just go back to your—”
Evangeline threw her bare arms around both man and child, and squeezed.
Where is Rebecca? Where is Rebecca? Where is Rebecca?
Darkness surrounded her, smothering her. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. At first she thought she managed to swoon after all, proving herself a coward beyond all redemption. But then, through the unrelenting shadows, came the unmistakable sounds of childlike voices.
