Chapter 2 - Hold On Down There
The light hurt first. After three days down there, even the thin crack he lifted let in a white blade that cut across my eyes, and I turned my face into my shoulder before I could see him clearly. Dust hung in it. I could hear Mia breathing too fast above me, and the wood creaking as the man fought its weight.
I was sitting against the stone with my knees pulled up. My wrists were out in front of me because the rope didn't let me put my arms anywhere else. Thick, light-colored, wrapped too many times. My fingers had gone clumsy from it. I tried to lift a hand toward her and couldn't get it higher than my chest.
"Easy," the man said. It wasn't to me. His forearm was braced under the hatch lid, his black sleeve sliding back. Dark hair swept back, his jaw tight. He wedged his knee against the marble to hold it open a few more inches and looked down. When our eyes met, he stopped moving for half a second. Just looked at the rope, at my face, and I saw him register it.
Below me the space was low and warm. Stone walls close enough to touch on both sides. A damp smell, and dust, and my own sweat in the cream cardigan I still had on over my dress. My hair was stuck at my temples. I knew how I looked. I didn't care if he saw it. I cared that Mia was leaning over that edge.
"Mia, baby, back up," I said. My voice came out rough from not using it. "Stay back from the edge, okay? Stay where I can hear you."
She didn't move. Her bare feet were right at the wood line. I could see the hem of her beige dress and her ponytail hanging forward as she peered down. She was crying without sound now, shoulders shaking.
"Mommy," she whispered.
"I'm right here. You did good. Now scoot back a little for me."
The man glanced up over his shoulder. I followed his look and saw the other shape in the bright hall — the man in black standing by the staircase. He had been far back before. Now his shoes were quiet on the marble, coming closer. I could see only his legs and the blur of the wall mirror behind him, doubling the white.
The suited man felt it too. His whole body shifted. He lowered the hatch lid an inch, not closing it, just narrowing the light, shielding me.
"Who's that?" I mouthed up at him.
He shook his head once, quick. Don't ask now.
The footsteps stopped a few feet away. "Everything okay over here?" the other man said. Casual. Too casual.
The suited man didn't look up right away. He kept his knee braced, his hand flat on the light wood panel with that recessed dark handle under his palm. "Yeah," he said. His voice was level, restrained. "She thought she heard something under the floor. Old house noises. I'm checking it out."
A pause. I held my breath. The stone pressed cold through my dress into my back. I tucked my bound hands against my stomach to hide the rope in case that man leaned over.
"She's been saying that for days," the staircase man said.
"I know," the suited man said. "Kids hear things. I'm going to make sure."
I could hear Mia's small breathing. She was still right there at his elbow, clutching his sleeve. If she talked, if she said what she'd told him before, the other man would hear. I wanted to tell her to be quiet, but I couldn't say that in front of him.
The suited man turned his head just enough toward Mia, his voice dropping low, meant only for her. "Hey. Listen to me. We're going to keep this between us for a minute, okay? Don't tell the story again yet. Just let me look."
Mia nodded, her hand tightening on his black jacket. She stepped back half a step from the edge, like he'd asked without asking.
Above us the other man shifted his weight. Suspicious. Waiting.
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The suited man looked back down at me. His eyes were concerned, steady. He mouthed two words, clear enough for me to read in the dim warm light: hold on.
Then he eased the hatch down another inch, leaving it braced open on his shoe, darkness settling back over me but not all the way. I could still hear them. I pressed my back harder into the stone and tried to keep my breathing quiet so they wouldn't hear me crying.
