Page 103

He didn’t abandon me before.

Edwin takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. My legs wobble as he guides me to the grave.

Then he nudges me forward.

The coffin waits open for me to climb into. Its wood is hard under my back. They couldn’t even be bothered to include a pillow.

To my side, Bridget settles into her own coffin with eerie composure. It’s clear now she’s just as crazy as the rest of them.

I want to fight. I want to scream at all of them that this is madness. That this doesn’t prove loyalty or honor tradition. It’s a sickness parading as ritual.

But no one would care.

Four masked men step forward, two on either side, and take hold of thick ropes already looped beneath the coffin.

Edwin’s face appears in the night sky above me. It’s the last thing I see before he places the lid on top.

Darkness swallows everything. My bound wrists burn as I strain against the zip tie, trying to slip a hand free.

The wood shifts beneath my back as the men lift me. My stomach drops before my body does.

Slowly, they lower me into the grave. My breathing turns frantic, each inhale scraping my throat as the coffin goes deeper into the ground. I clamp my mouth shut and force myself to take little breaths through my nose.

Slow down.

Don’t waste air.

Silence presses in from every side, becoming more suffocating the lower I go.

The coffin settles with a dull knock against something solid beneath it.

The ropes slide free.

Then something strikes the lid.

Thump.

Thump.

The sound turns my blood to ice.

Dirt.

I’m being buried alive.

Fresh tears slide into my hair as I wrench against the zip tie hard enough to tear skin. Pain flashes hot in my wrists.

Above me, dirt keeps falling in heavy, steady blows. Soon the sound dulls to a distant vibration, muffled by layers piling on top until it feels like the whole earth is sealing me in.

I draw in a careful breath.

Hold it.

Release it slowly.

A crack splits the silence.

Then another.