“Stop,” I snapped, my frustration bleeding into my tone. I hadn’t meant for it to sound so sharp, but I refused to appear fragile. “I’m not a porcelain doll. We continue.”
Reyna nodded in reluctant agreement. My mother, however, glowered, her disapproval radiating in silence.
The carriage wheels crunched over gravel, the noise colliding with the muffled discomfort filling the interior. As we neared the caves, my mother’s voice rose.
“Olivia, your birth was much like this—rushed, unexpected, amidst the shadows of an ancient cave in Peru. Your father and I?—”
“Stop talking about the past. Stop talking about me!” I snapped, cutting through her reverie with impatience.
My discomfort mounted, each contraction a stark reminder of the present, of the imminent life I carried, not the one long since lived.
A heavy silence fell, the air thick with unspoken words and the moment’s weight. The carriage halted at the mouth of the caves. As we disembarked, Reyna offered me a steadying arm, which I reluctantly accepted. My feet found the uneven ground outside, and I noted how the air smelled of earth and sweat, the tang of men at work.
Ahead, the entrance yawned wide, a portal into darkness lined by the silhouettes of laborers chiseling away at history. Malik emerged from the shadows, his expression darkening when he saw us. His gaze landed on my mother first, and his jaw tightened.
“Why is she here?” he spat, jabbing a finger in her direction. Then his eyes shifted, flickering between Reyna and me. The incredulity on his face hardened into a scowl. “Why are Reyna and you here? You’re pregnant!”
I met his glare unflinching. “Malik, I?—”
A spasm of pain clenched at my midsection, more insistent than the last. My breath hitched as I doubled over, bracing my hands against the cool stone wall of the cave entrance.
“Olivia!” Reyna’s voice was sharp with concern, her urgency breaking through the haze of pain. She rushed to my side, her hands steadying me. “We’re going home!”
I shook my head, gasping as another contraction rippled through me.
“No,” I managed through gritted teeth. The thought of retreat, of abandoning this mission when we were so close, was unbearable.
Malik appeared beside us, looming like a dark storm cloud. His brow furrowed deeply, his frustration palpable.
“Get Roman!” he barked to one of the hired men nearby, who nodded before disappearing into the cave’s depths. “He can talk some sense into her! Olivia is so damn stubborn!”
As Malik turned back to me, his expression softened—a rare and unsettling vulnerability slipping through his gruff exterior. But his gaze didn’t linger on me. Instead, his eyes darted toward Reyna, holding something raw and unspoken. This flash of emotion on his face was disconcerting, as though he couldn’t contain it any longer. Why would Malik be drawn to Reyna? She was engaged, for heaven’s sake. Such feelings had no place here; they should be locked away, not displayed so openly, like a wound for all to see.
I tried to focus on steadying my breathing.
Roman’s voice echoed through the dim expanse of the cave, tinged with panic as he burst into view.
“Why did you come here?” His words tumbled out in a rush, each syllable etched with worry. “You and Reyna should be resting. Reyna has only begun to recover, and you, my love…”
His words trailed off as he hurried to my side.
I lifted my chin, meeting his concern with a determined stare, even as another contraction threatened to bend me double.
“We came to feed you,” I said, the simplicity of our gesture juxtaposed against the complexity of our current dilemma.
Beside me, Reyna stood resolute, her pale cheeks flushed with the effort to remain upright despite her healing wounds.
Protective instincts radiated off Roman like heat from a fire. “No! Go home!”
“Please,” I said, clutching his arm, feeling the tense coil of strength beneath his sleeve. “Just five minutes. I want to see the caves, see the progress.”
“Olivia...” He began, yet something in my gaze must have reached him because he faltered. “Fine, but only five minutes.”
It was a small victory, but it was enough to ease the tightness in my chest. Roman’s attention shifted to one of the workers, and I followed his gaze to see Osman and Reyna standing off to the side. They were carefully unpacking the baskets we’d brought, laying out our humble offering—lunch for the weary searchers—with quiet efficiency.
The sight warmed me, and despite everything, I felt a thread of connection to these people, this place, and the shared purpose that bound us together and drove us forward.
The air inside the cave was cool and damp, a vivid contrast to the oppressive heat outside. Roman led the way, his lantern casting jagged, ominous shadows on the uneven walls. Alina’s voice danced around us like the flutter of a curious bird, each question more eager than the last.
