Page 52 of The Swindler’s Daughter

No response came.

“I thought they would be here.” He was worried.

“Do you think they were caught?”

“No.” I felt him shake his head in the dark. “They were ahead of us. They must be coming from a different direction, taking a longer path.”

My heartbeat sped again as I started to worry for the boys.

And then Rowan shifted beside me and I realized I was pressed into his side, my arms wrapped around his upper arm, my chin almost touching his shoulder.

His face turned toward me and his nose grazed my cheek.

My heart sped for a different reason.

I stilled, afraid to move. Any movement would mean something—a drawing away or a moving closer. A rejection or an invitation, but I couldn’t make that decision right now. I couldn’t—

Shouts sounded outside and my fingers clutched at Rowan’s arm. They were still far away but near enough that it was clear they were retracing their path, hoping to find us. But we were well concealed. They wouldn’t find us, I was sure. This was a haven, a safe place, a—

The vines pulled back and two bodies blocked the light.

My scream stuck in my throat, thankfully.

I could barely breathe as Oliver and John crammed themselves into the space, forcing Rowan and me to scramble back farther. I was surprised that we were able to make enough room without my back or head ever bumping into the earthen walls that surrounded us. How big was this space? Large enough to hold all four of us, apparently.

We all went still as the shouting voices rose and fell. They were clearly searching the area in a wider, more random pattern, which was good because they obviously hadn’t seen where the boys had come to hide, but it was also nerve-racking as they seemed to be taking more time to search.

I tried to be calm, I did. I fought to slow my heart and my breathing but it was impossible. I knew too well how precarious our position was. Calm was outside my grasp.

Rowan’s hand pressed into my knee, no doubt trying to comfort, but it only reminded me all over again of our proximity and the way we were squished in the dim space.

My heart never slowed, but eventually the voices faded away entirely, leaving us with nothing but the sound of our breathing.

“Are you both all right?” I asked after a long moment, my voice a mere wisp in the darkness.

They both shifted into more comfortable positions. “I’m well,” Oliver answered.

“We all made it out in one piece,” John answered, trying to sound light-hearted but failing. “That’s something, at least.”

“How did you all find this place anyway?” I asked, mostly in an attempt to distract myself.

“We didn’t find it,” Oliver answered. “We made it.”

“You made it?”

“It was John’s idea,” Rowan said beside me. “This boulder above us is massive and it juts out into the ravine.”

“I started digging under it one day,” John said, taking up the story, “and realized the soil beneath was so rich that it was easy to move out. I’ve been working on it for months.”

I touched my hand to the side of the crevice, feeling the packed dirt, then ran my hand up, extending my arm halfway before I encountered the rough rock surface that served as our roof. “When you said you knew a place to hide, I didn’t expect this,” I rambled. “What made you do it?”

“Not sure,” John said as he settled his back against one of the walls. “Murrwood Forest always seemed like a haven, someplace I’d be able to take refuge if necessary. Then we started pushing up against the law, and after being chased a few times, I decided that a true hiding place was a necessity.”

“We’re all grateful for John and his foresight, especially at this moment.”

It was odd to hear a complete lack of confidence in Rowan’s voice. Our flight from the village had shaken him. I reached out and found his hand, holding on to it with both of my own, not caring if he would read more or less into it than it meant. I just needed the reassurance. “How long do you think we should stay here?” I asked, in no hurry to face the world outside of this safe bubble.

“Let’s give it a few more minutes,” Rowan suggested.