“Then thank Lily.”
“She made it hard to keep riding.”
Later that morning, Harriet called.
They had reached the end of the eastern passage.
The group returned to Cedar Hollow.
By then, Anna was using crutches.
Lily wore brand-new shoes Tess had bought her.
Bright purple.
Lily disliked them because they had no lights.
Tess promised to negotiate better terms next time.
Noah said almost nothing during the drive.
At the cabin, Harriet met them beside a temporary command tent.
“We found an exit.”
“Where?”
Noah asked.
“Far side of the ridge.”
“Was it open?”
“Not anymore.”
“A landslide sealed it years ago.”
“But in 1999?”
“Probably accessible.”
Noah looked at Anna.
“Then they could have gotten out.”
“Possibly.”
Harriet held up a hand.
“There’s more.”
Everyone waited.
“We found another sheltered pocket near the exit.”
“Inside were food tins, blankets, tools, and dated newspapers.”
Anna felt her pulse quicken.
“How late?”
“September 2001.”
Noah sat down.
“My uncle survived.”
“It appears somebody lived there.”
“For how long?”
“At least intermittently for nearly two years.”
“Why wouldn’t Eli come home?”
Harriet looked uncomfortable.
“We found a notebook.”
Noah shut his eyes.
“Another one?”
“Yes.”
“His?”
“We believe so.”
Harriet handed him several copied pages.
The handwriting was cramped.
Some words were missing.
The first readable entry was dated ten days after the 1999 collapse.
Thomas found me.
Caleb gone for help.
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.