Chapter 271

Olivia

The sun was setting, casting long, deep orange shadows across our humble abode.

I had been sitting at the kitchen table, textbooks sprawled before me, but my thoughts weren’t on the equations and sentences that blurred on the pages. They were with Mama, and the silence she left behind. The empty chair beside mine had only emphasized her absence.

It was just a few months after my mom had died of cancer. At the time, I thought that things couldn’t get any worse. Little did I know that my dad and I would be evicted from our pack just one year later.

The front door creaked open, and in walked my father, a silhouette of a man coated in a thick layer of soot.

His once bright blue overalls were now a dull shade of gray, bearing testimony to the long hours he had put in at the mines. His face, lined with the dirt and grime of the day’s work, was a stark contrast to his piercing blue eyes that shone with a mix of fatigue and determination.

Dropping his heavy tool bag with a thud, he made his way to the sink, his once-robust form now diminished, hunched over from the burdens he carried both physically and emotionally. As he splashed water onto his face, I noticed the violent fits of coughing that shook his frame, sending small puffs of blackened mucus into the sink.

Years later, the smoke that was in his lungs would take him, too, just like it took my mom. She didn’t know, all those years that she had kissed him and hugged him despite the soot on his clothes, that it would work its way into her body and take her first. Ironic, isn’t it?

I think he always felt guilty for that.

Without thinking, I moved to the stove, pouring a cup of hot tea to help him soothe his throat. The fragrant steam rose in lazy spirals, and I carried the cup over to where he sat, slumped in his chair, head in his hands.

Setting the cup down in front of him, our fingers brushed momentarily. His were rough, like sandpaper, yet the tenderness with which he held onto me spoke of a profound and unyielding love.

He raised his head, eyes locking onto mine. In them, I saw pools of remorse and deep-seated pain.

“Olivia,” he began, his voice gravelly from the prolonged exposure to the dust down in the mines, “I love you. I’m so, so sorry I’ve been away so much. I’m trying to... make things right, especially after...”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. The specter of Mama’s recent passing from cancer loomed large between us, an ever-present reminder of the fragility of life and the fleeting moments we had with those we cherished.

With a tremble in my voice, I whispered, “Daddy, it doesn’t matter how much you work. All I want is for you to come home safe. Every single day.”

He smiled, a weak but genuine upturn of his lips, pulling me into a tight embrace, his coal-covered self staining my white dress. But I didn’t care. This was the embrace of a man who had lost much but was determined to hang onto what little he had left with all his might. In that hug, I felt the weight of his love and the depth of his despair.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, seeking solace in each other's presence, two souls adrift in the turbulent sea of grief, anchoring each other.

…

The cavernous mouth of the mines seemed to grow more forbidding as we approached, its darkness so absolute it felt as though it could swallow the moonlight.

Towering rock formations cast jagged shadows on the ground, like skeletal fingers beckoning us to step closer into the abyss. The very air around the mine entrance was dense with decades of untold secrets and the lost hopes of miners who had delved deep in search of elusive treasures.

Now, it was a different kind of treasure I sought, one imbued with magic and menace.

The distant hoot of an owl broke the silence, adding to the eerie setting. My pulse quickened as I felt the weight of the moment, and of the countless moments that had led us to this. I stepped closer to the opening, drawn yet reluctant. The palpable tension was like an electric charge in the air, prickling my skin.

Summoning courage, I cupped my hands around my mouth and called into the cavern. “Hello?”

The word tumbled into the darkness and returned to me as a haunting echo, as if the very walls of the mine were mimicking my apprehension. The eerie reverberation lingered, accentuating the silence that followed. It was a silence heavy with expectation.

Behind me, Angela’s voice quivered as she broke it. “Olivia, are you really planning on doing this alone?”

I turned to her, eyes meeting in the dim moonlight that barely penetrated the thick canopy of the forest surrounding the mine. I saw my own fears mirrored in her hazel eyes. With a sigh, I nodded.

“Yes, Angela. I have to. This is something I can’t delegate or share. The burden is mine to bear.”

It was Levi who stepped forward next, his towering figure made even more imposing by the grave expression he wore. He unbuckled a pistol from his belt and offered it to me, handle first. The metal was cold, its weight surprising as I took it hesitantly from him.

He proceeded to instruct me, his words methodical and deliberate.

“This is the safety,” he pointed with his calloused finger, “and this is how you aim.” His hands guided mine, shaping them around the pistol, lending me his steadiness. “If something goes wrong—anything at all—you fire this. A single shot. We’ll hear and come running, no questions asked.”

My fingers trembled slightly around the grip of the pistol. “Levi, I’ve never even held a gun before, let alone fired one.”

His eyes met mine, steady and unflinching. “I know, Liv. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Use it for self-defense, or as a signal flare if you need help. Either way, it’s better to have it and not need it.”

Angela chimed in, her voice tinged with forced levity to mask her anxiety. “Well, they do say the best surprises are the ones you never see coming. Although, in this case, the least surprising would be preferred.”

I had to smile at that, despite the circumstances. Levi handed me the gun holster, which I fastened to my belt. The pistol felt heavy at my side, a constant reminder of the stakes involved.

Finally, Nathan produced a coil of thick rope, worn but strong. “One more precaution,” he said as he deftly tied one end around my waist, ensuring the knot was secure. “We’ll keep hold of the other end. If you tug three times, we’ll use it to follow you in there; or pull you out if need be.”

I nodded, touched by the layers of precaution my friends were layering around me, a protective cocoon born of concern and love.

It was then that Nathan closed the distance between us. He looked at me, his blue-green eyes awash with a mix of fear, love, and unspeakable pride. Without a word, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was a kiss fraught with a thousand unspoken promises and farewells, sealing the silent vows we had made to each other over time.

As he pulled away, his voice was barely above a whisper, laden with emotion. “Come back to me. For us, for our children, for the life we have yet to live. We haven’t had our wedding yet, you hear me?”

Tears stung my eyes as I looked into his face, committing to memory the way he looked at that moment. “I will,” I breathed, my voice choked with emotion.

With a final glance at Angela, Levi, and Nathan—each a pillar of my life in their own unique way—I turned to face the yawning chasm that awaited me.

I took my first step into the gloom, the darkness rising to envelop me like a tide of ink. Cold air kissed my cheeks as I ventured further, the rope at my waist unfurling in tandem with each step, its tug a comforting reminder of the world I was leaving behind but hoped to return to.

And as I delved deeper into the labyrinthine abyss, my fingers brushed against the gun at my side, a grim comfort in the enveloping dark.