Chapter 8: The Place Beneath The Earth
The old Kendrick mine had been closed for six years.
Everyone in Twin Falls knew that.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
The entrance sat beyond the northern fields, hidden behind a line of abandoned trees.
Robert had not spoken a single word during the ride there.
Not one.
The silence was different this time.
Before, his silence had felt like a wall.
Now it felt like fear.
I noticed.
“You’re worried.””
Robert kept his eyes on the trail.
“Yes.””
That answer surprised me.
“About the mine?””
“No.””
He looked at me.
“About what we’ll find.””
The morning fog surrounded the entrance when we arrived.
The old wooden supports were cracked.
The sign warning people to stay away hung crooked.
I stepped down from the horse.
“You’ve never been inside?””
“Not since it closed.””
“Why?””
Robert looked toward the darkness.
“Because my father told me never to return.””
I frowned.
“Why would he say that?””
“Because he knew something was there.””
We entered with lanterns.
The air became colder with every step.
The sound of our footsteps echoed through the tunnels.
I tried not to think about how far underground we were.
After several minutes, Robert stopped.
“What?””
He pointed.
A mark had been carved into the wall.
A symbol.
My father’s initials.
RH.
I touched the stone.
“He was here.””
Robert nodded.
“He left this for us.””
We followed the markings deeper into the mine.
The tunnel became narrower.
Then we reached a wooden door.
Locked.
Robert stared at it.
“This wasn’t here before.””
“How do you know?””
“Because I sealed this tunnel myself.””
My heart raced.
“Someone opened it?””
“Yes.””
He touched the new lock.
“Recently.””
Robert pulled out a tool from his bag.
Within moments, the lock broke.
The door opened.
Inside was a small hidden room.
Not a mine room.
A storage room.
There were shelves.
Boxes.
Documents.
And a desk.
My breath caught.
“My father.””
Robert walked slowly inside.
On the desk was a journal.
He picked it up.
The cover was worn.
But the handwriting was clear.
William Hartley.
My father.
I grabbed the journal.
The first page had only one sentence.
If Elias finds this, everyone I love is in danger.
I turned the page.
There were records.
Names.
Payments.
Dates.
My hands shook.
“This is proof.””
Robert looked over my shoulder.
“Proof of what?””
“Everything.””
I pointed.
“Elias paid people to change land records.””
I turned another page.
“He paid officials.””
Another.
“He paid Thomas Vail.””
Robert became still.
“Thomas was working for him.””
“Yes.””
Then I found something else.
A name.
One name repeated over and over.
Not Elias.
Not Thomas.
Someone else.
Someone I knew.
Someone who had been standing beside us.
My blood turned cold.
“Robert.””
He looked at me.
“What?””
I handed him the journal.
His eyes moved to the name.
And his expression changed.
“No.””
I whispered.
“That’s impossible.””
The name was written clearly.
Clara Whitmore.
Robert looked like someone had struck him.
“Clara?””
I nodded.
“She was working with Elias.””
The lantern flickered.
Then suddenly…
A sound came from outside the room.
A footstep.
Someone was there.
Robert closed the journal.
“Stay behind me.””
The footsteps came closer.
Slow.
Certain.
Not someone searching.
Someone who knew exactly where we were.
Robert stood at the doorway.
“Who’s there?””
Silence.
Then a voice answered from the darkness.
A voice I recognized.
A voice that made my entire body freeze.
“Robert.””
The lantern shook in my hand.
Because the person standing outside the hidden room was someone who should have been impossible.
Someone who had been dead for five years.
My father’s voice whispered:
May you like
“Rose.””
And Robert went completely still.
