Calvin has become a constant presence, hovering over every square foot of excavation, questioning every decision, checking his watch like the answers he wants will materialize through sheer force of will.
And I’m exhausted.
Ella woke up three times last night. Maybe from heat, bad dreams, teething, the change in circumstances, who knows. I’ve been up since before dawn to get work done while she sleeps. My shoulders ache from crouching over the grid all day, I have sand in places sand should never be, and I’m running on coffee and determination alone.
“Dr. Halford, what do you make of this?” Yasmin calls from section B3.
I abandon my documentation work and head over, grateful for any distraction from Calvin’s increasingly hostile stare. He’sbeen sitting with his laptop under a tent for the last hour, glancing over at us every few minutes, radiating disapproval.
Yasmin has uncovered more pottery fragments, these ones with similar glaze work to the ceremonial vase we found three days ago.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, crouching beside her. “We’re probably close to something important. Temple complexes often had central chambers for ceremonies, surrounded by storage or preparation areas. If we’re finding ceremonial objects here…”
“Then the main structure is nearby,” Omar finishes, appearing with the camera.
“Exactly.”
I feel a flutter of excitement, the first real hope I’ve had in days. We’re close. I can feel it. Not in any mystical sense, but in the way evidence accumulates, patterns emerge, ancient spaces reveal themselves to those patient enough to listen.
“Mama!”
I close my eyes briefly.Not now, Ella. Please not now.“Just a minute, baby!”
“Mama, hot!”
She’s right. It’s past noon, and even under the canopy, the temperature must be approaching 110 degrees. She needs water, maybe to go inside for a bit.
“Omar, continue documenting. I’ll be right back.”
“Actually,” Calvin’s voice cuts through the heat, cold and sharp, “could we discuss the timeline?”
I turn to find him standing behind me, his expression as pleasant as a tax audit.
“Timeline?”Seriously? This again?He’s like a broken record, repeating the same words over and over again. I’m starting to wonder if this man is even remotely in touch with reality.
“Not for the entire project,” Calvin clarifies. “For this section. How much longer before we move to the next grid?”
“We move when we’ve thoroughly documented and extracted everything here. I can’t give you an exact timeline.”
“An estimate, then.”
“Two days. Maybe three. Maybe longer if we keep finding artifacts.”
His jaw tightens.
“Mama!Mama!”
Ella’s voice is rising toward a wail. I can see her little face red and scrunched up, tears starting. “I have to—” I gesture toward her.
“We need to discuss efficiency,” Calvin says, as if I haven’t spoken. “The current pace is unsustainable.”
“The current pace is appropriate for the work we’re doing.”
“Mama!”
Calvin’s face has gone very still. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“Fine.”
