“My name is Charlotte,” I said, relief flooding my body. “Did I already say that?”

She moaned, and I lay against the jagged incline for what seemed like hours, holding her hand, waiting for help to arrive. I whispered words of encouragement, told Teresa about my encounter with her brother. She laughed weakly when I mentioned that I’d called him an ass**le.

Finally, after getting the pleasantries out of the way, I asked the million-dollar question. “Teresa, do you know how this happened?”

The emotion that spiked within her was the polar opposite of what I’d expected. It had me questioning everything I’d learned, everything I knew about the doctor. Because the sensation that radiated out of her with such force that my breath caught in my chest was not fear or anxiety, but guilt. Sorrowful, regret-filled guilt. I waited a moment, analyzed what she was feeling, until I heard a meek, “No. I don’t know what happened.”

Shame consumed her and shock consumed me. I didn’t know what to say. If I were reading her right, she did this. It was somehow her fault. But that couldn’t be. There was simply no way she’d done this to herself. Why would she?

And I had felt guilt so clearly on her husband, too. So deeply, he reeked of it.

I didn’t ask her anything further, and let her rest as I mulled over the new chain of events in my mind. Was it a botched suicide attempt? What could she have had to gain by killing herself in such a way? Why not just take a bottle of pills? Her husband was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. And even if she’d set the whole thing up, how did one go about causing a cave-in? Maybe she was feeling guilty because she’d accidently caused the collapse. But her guilt was much more than that. Her shame much stronger.

“Charley?”

I blinked to attention and saw Cookie stumbling along the tracks with her phone open to light the way. Clearly she hadn’t taken advantage of Misery’s sporting goods department.

“I’m right here. There’s been a cave-in.”

She stopped and looked up. “My goodness. Is she under that?”

“I think she’s on it, but she’s hurt. Did you get ahold of Uncle Bob?”

“Yes, and Agent Carson.” She leaned against the mine wall, her breathing labored from her trek.

“What on planet Earth are you wearing?” I asked when I noticed the leg warmers around her ankles.

“Don’t start with me. How did this happen?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“The mine just collapsed?”

“With Teresa in it.” I thought that would get an emotional response from Teresa, but I got nothing, and I realized her hand had gone limp. “I think she passed out. We need to get her some water, and I need a flashlight.”

With my eyes adjusted to the low light, I could just make out what Cookie was leaning against. A loose support beam. “Cookie, you might not want to do that,” I said, just as the beam slipped and the world came crumbling down around us.

22

If all hell breaks loose, blame gremlins.

—T-SHIRT

A low rumbling echoed against the cavernous walls as rocks and dirt broke free from the ceiling. I reflexively covered my head with an arm and watched the landslide from underneath my elbow. The amount of earth that dropped straight away astonished me, as though it had been floating in a vacuum all this time, when fate decided to give gravity a kick start. My stomach lurched at the sight, and in an instant, time slowed until it barely crept forward, like a turtle struggling against a category 5 hurricane.

Rocks and debris hung in midair, almost glistening in the dark cavern. I reached out, ran my hands through a stream of dirt, sifted it through my fingers.

I could have run under the cascade of earth and debris and made it through unscathed. I could have run for help. Instead, I risked a glance around. Cookie was frozen midstumble, a massive boulder hovering over her head, inching toward her body, a body that would break like a matchstick house under its weight. She would be crushed.

I sprinted through the thick air, dived, and threw all my weight onto her, tackling her to the ground as time slingshot back with a roaring vengeance. I managed to push her out from under the largest of the rocks as the explosion burst around us, but I didn’t quite clear the boulder as it plummeted to earth, skimming the back of my head, its crushing weight scraping along my spine. A fire erupted down my back, and I clamped my jaw shut in preparation for the onslaught of pain as I covered Cookie’s head with my arms. The rumbling continued for a few seconds more, then silence. Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. As fine streams of dirt dwindled and the dust settled around us, Cookie let rip the most bloodcurdling shriek I’d ever heard. It reverberated against my bones and, surely, against the unstable ceiling.

“Really?” I said, my voice barely audible as I tried to crawl off her. “You’re going to scream now?”

She stopped and looked around warily, blinking dirt from her eyes.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, spitting gunk from my mouth in a series of sputters.

“No, no. Oh, my god, are you?”

I stopped to think about it. “I don’t think so. Not bad.” My back was on fire, but I could move. Always a good sign. “You might not want to scream again. You know, with us being in an unstable cave and all.”

“Sorry.”

Then I remembered Teresa and scrambled over the new-fallen debris and back up the incline. I could still feel her. “Teresa, are you okay?” When I received no answer, I turned to Cookie. “I need you to get a flashlight, some water, and a blanket from Misery, if you can.”