“There’s something in your hair.” Caleb took the phone from her and angled the light. He touched her hair and lowered his hand to reveal iridescent specks of wax caught in her hair.
“You have the same in yours. Maybe it was part of whatever explosive device he used to collapse the shaft?”
“It’s possible,” he said before glancing back toward the sliver of an opening. “Ready to get out of here?”
Ava nodded. “More than ready.” She eased the dog away from the area where they’d be working.
Shadow stood watching as Ava propped the phone up close so that they could see and grabbed the first rock before tossing it aside.
The remaining pile of rubble shifted dangerously and she froze. “What happens if this whole thing collapses?” she asked, the thought chilling.
“Then it will take forever to get free.”
Those ominous words chilled her to the bone.
“Wait.” Caleb stopped her before she could grab the next rock.
“What is it?” But he wasn’t looking at the rock pile but at something on the wall.
“There.” Caleb retrieved the phone and held it closer. “It’s some type of access panel.”
Ava moved closer. “You’re right.” She grabbed hold of the panel and pried it open. Cold air spilled through the space carrying on it the scent of wax and vanilla.
Caleb’s breath caught. “That smell...”
“Wax’s calling card.” Her tone turned to steel. “He’s been here recently.” “Shadow, search.”
The dog slipped through the opening, moving with precision, every line of his body alive. Ava followed with Caleb.
She looked around at what appeared to be a small, narrow chamber lined with flickering candles. Wax glistened down the walls like frozen tears. On a ledge to their left, a silver metronome ticked—a slow, deliberate rhythm. Sixty beats per minute. A resting pulse.
Caleb’s voice was soft beside her. “He’s mocking you.”
Ava reached out and stopped the pendulum with one touch. The silence that followed throbbed in her ears. “No,” she said. “He’s reminding me. Time is running out.”
He turned toward her, the light brushing her cheek. “You don’t have to prove anything—to him, or anyone.”
She met his gaze, the memory of old warmth tugging against the walls she’d built. “This isn’t about proof, Caleb. It’s about ending it.”
He smiled faintly—the same half-smile that used to undo her resolve. “Then we end it together.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The years between them dissolved, replaced by something older and truer. What they’d once been before darkness tore them apart.
Shadow kept close to her. The dog’s ears were pinned, eyes locked on something behind the ladder bolted into the back wall. Ava followed his gaze upward and caught it—a tiny glint of glass embedded in the rock.
“A video camera,” Caleb said quietly.
“He wants me to know he’s always watching.” Her voice broke. “This whole collapse was just another game.”
Caleb stepped closer, his presence solid and grounding. “He doesn’t get to win again, Ava.”
For a moment, she let herself believe him.
“What is that?” Ava spotted something near the ceiling and took a step closer.
“Looks like some type of ventilation system. That’s not old. It wasn’t part of the original mine set up. He’s added it.”
“Unbelievable. You think he lives in the mine?”
