“I think we’re getting close to the surface,” he murmured when they paused to catch their breath. “Smell that?”
She inhaled and caught it—faint, but unmistakable. Pine. Damp earth. A whisper of smoke. “How much farther?”
“Not much. There’s airflow now. That means an opening.”
They pressed forward, the passage growing tighter even as hope grew stronger. Annie fought the urge to think about the weight of the mountain above them, about how easily stone could shift and seal them inside a living tomb. Don’t think about that. Think about Eleanor. Think about the truth. But her thoughts betrayed her. They drifted to Jack. To his voice on the mountainside. To the words he’d spoken as bullets split the night air. I love you. I’ve loved you for years. Four years of believing she hadn’t been enough. Four years of rehearsing indifference. Four years of silence built on grief she hadn’t understood.
“Light ahead,” Jack called.
Relief surged through her.
The passage widened abruptly, and above them she saw it—a faint circle of night, washed pale by starlight. They climbed carefully, using natural holds in the rock, moving slowly so they wouldn’t dislodge stone or betray themselves with sound. They were almost there when Annie heard it.
Voices.
Male. Close.
“—should have found them by now.”
“They didn’t come out the logging road exit. Thomas is sure of that.”
Jack froze. So did Annie.
“They’re either still in the caves,” the voice continued, “or they found another way out.”
Jack eased back down, motioning urgently. There wasn’t space for them both to retreat easily, and the voices were getting closer. “Check that opening,” someone ordered. “Looks like it might connect.”
A flashlight beam cut across the mouth of the passage. Annie pressed herself into the rock, heart hammering so hard she wassure it could be heard. The light speared downward, probing the darkness where they hid.
“Too narrow,” a man said. “But shine down there anyway.”
The beam slid again, sweeping, lingering. Annie shut her eyes and prayed. After a breathless eternity, the light lifted.
“Nothing. Let’s check the main trail.”
The footsteps retreated. The voices faded. She didn’t move. Couldn’t. It took several long minutes before Jack touched her shoulder, and only then did she realize she was shaking.
“They’re covering all the exits,” he whispered. “This is organized. Coordinated.”
“How many?”
“At least six. Maybe more.” His mouth tightened. “And they’re equipped. Radios. Search patterns. Terrain knowledge. This isn’t a family cover-up anymore, Annie.”
She thought of the voices. The calm. The efficiency. “What if it’s not just about Eleanor?” she said slowly. “What if whatever she hid threatens more than just the Mitchell name?”
Jack’s gaze sharpened. “Financial crimes. Ongoing operations. Maybe even organized connections that never stopped.”
She nodded. “If Eleanor uncovered something that continued through generations…”
“Then we’re not just reopening a cold case,” he finished. “We’re threatening an entire network.”
The thought sent a chill through her. And yet beneath it stirred resolve.
“We need to get to that bank,” Annie said. “Whatever’s in that box, people are willing to kill to protect it. That makes it evidence.”
“First we get off this mountain,” Jack said. “Alive.”
She met his eyes. “And then?”
