Thomas hurt bad.
Exit behind us closed.
East way maybe open.
Noah’s hands shook.
He turned the page.
Thomas fever worse.
Keeps talking about Ruth and little Anna.
Says Anna has rabbit named George.
Anna began to cry.
Lily hugged the old rabbit tighter.
Another entry came three days later.
Thomas died before morning.
Said he was not afraid.
Asked me to tell his family he came home first.
I promised.
Anna lowered her head.
There it was.
Not a possibility.
Not a story passed from one guilty person to another.
Her father had reached Eli.
He had done what he went underground to do.
And he had died beside the man he refused to leave alone.
Noah continued reading.
The following entries described Eli’s attempt to escape.
The eastern passage remained partly open.
He crawled through alone.
He emerged nearly three miles from Cedar Hollow.
But instead of returning home immediately, he discovered that search crews had already been redirected toward Black Ridge.
Then came the entry that explained everything.
I saw Dad’s truck at the highway.
Could not make myself go down.
If I tell them Thomas found me, everyone will know Caleb brought him back.
If Thomas died because of me, how do I look Ruth Mercer in the face?
Noah stopped.
Anna whispered, “He blamed himself.”
Noah nodded.
“He was twenty-two.”
“Probably terrified.”
“He should have come home.”
“Yes.”
“But I understand being ashamed of surviving.”
Anna looked toward the mine entrance.
“I think all of them were ashamed of surviving something.”
Caleb.
Ruth.
Eli.
Each had carried a different version of the same burden.
Noah read onward.
Eli left Kentucky.
He worked seasonal construction jobs.
He avoided using his real name whenever possible.
He returned to Cedar Hollow in 2001 because he wanted to recover Thomas’s belongings.
The tunnel had shifted.
He could not reach the chamber.
So he carved his name and date onto the metal strip near the eastern entrance.
His final entry said:
I keep thinking courage means going back underground.
Maybe courage means going home.
Noah turned the page.
It was blank.
“Did he?”
Anna asked.
“Go home?”
Harriet handed him something else.
A recent printout.
“We searched the name variations and dates from the notebook.”
Noah stared at her.
“You found him?”
“We found a man named Elias Reed who used the name Eli Carter for nearly eighteen years.”
“Where?”
“Tennessee.”
“Alive?”
Harriet nodded.
“As of this morning.”
Nobody moved.
Noah whispered, “My uncle is alive.”
Anna covered her mouth.
Lily looked between the adults.
“Can we call him?”
Noah laughed through tears.
“Apparently Lily is running the investigation now.”
Harriet smiled.
“We contacted him.”
Noah’s laughter stopped.
“What did he say?”
“He asked whether Caleb was alive.”
Noah looked down.
“And?”
“We told him Caleb died last month.”
Noah wiped his face.
Harriet continued.
“Then he asked whether Ruth Mercer was alive.”
Anna shook her head.
“No.”
“When we told him she had passed away, he became very quiet.”
Anna understood.
Three people had waited too long.
Two had died before the silence ended.
One remained.
“What about me?”
Anna asked.
“Did he ask?”
Harriet nodded.
“He asked whether Thomas Mercer’s little girl still lived in Kentucky.”
Anna began crying.
Lily wrapped herself around her mother.
Harriet smiled gently.
“He would like to speak with you.”
The call happened that afternoon.
Anna sat beneath an oak tree with Noah beside her.
Colter, Tess, and Lily waited several yards away.
Noah placed the phone on speaker.
It rang twice.
A man answered.
“Hello?”
Noah froze.
The voice belonged to family and stranger at once.
“Uncle Eli?”
Silence.
Then a breath.
“Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
A trembling laugh came through the phone.