Page 88 of Gatsby's Starlet
We pushed harder this time, both of us putting everything into it, shoulders straining, dirt shifting beneath our knees as the stone resisted—until it finally gave, just a fraction, just enough to make both of us freeze as we felt it move beneath our hands.
“Again,” Ruby said, breathless now, something desperate slipping into her voice.
We shoved into it a third time, harder, the stone grinding faintly against whatever held it in place before shifting enough to open a narrow gap behind it, barely wide enough to see through, but enough for a thin slip of cold air to reach us, faint and fragile and real.
I stilled, my breath catching as I leaned closer, trying to see into the darkness beyond, searching for anything, anything at all, that told me where it led. “I think—”
A sound cut through from above, not distant or imagined but heavy, close, real.
Ruby’s head snapped up, her entire body going rigid. “Did you hear that?”
Yeah—I heard it, boots moving slow and deliberate across something solid, each step measured and unhurried, like whoever it was already knew exactly where we were.
My grip tightened on the edge of the stone as it hit me all at once that it wasn’t rescue, wasn’t help, wasn’t anything we wanted.
It was them.
“Leave it,” Ruby whispered, panic rising fast. “Evie, leave it—”
I hesitated for half a second, because that gap mattered, because it was something—but it wasn’t enough, not yet, and if they saw it, if they knew we were trying—
“Now,” she hissed, grabbing my arm and yanking me back.
The footsteps didn’t stop as they slowed directly above us, and then everything went still, no voices, no movement, just a silence that pressed in too tight and stretched too long, until my lungs started to burn from holding my breath and my mind began filling the space with things I couldn’t see, someone standing there, listening, waiting.
A subtle shift followed, like a boot turning in place, like weight settling with intention, and my heart slammed harder as panic clawed up my throat, every instinct screaming at me to move even as I forced myself to stay perfectly still.
Because they knew.
They had to know.
The scrape came next, slow and drawn out, something heavy dragging across the opening above us until a thin line of light cut down into the hole, bright, slicing through the dark and leaving nowhere to hide.
Too close. Too exposed.
I forced myself to move anyway, breaking just enough to kick dirt back over the stone as fast as I could, covering what we’d exposed, flattening it with shaking hands until it looked untouched, until it might pass if no one looked too closely.
The light shifted again, pausing just long enough to feel intentional, and for one terrible second it seemed to settledirectly over the spot we’d covered, like whoever stood above us was looking straight down, seeing too much.
A shadow crossed the opening and stopped, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but wait for it to end.
“You hear something?” a voice muttered from above, low and rough, close enough to land heavy in my chest.
Silence answered him before another voice cut in, sharper, dismissive. “Rats. This place is crawling with them.”
A beat passed, another shift of weight, and then the footsteps moved, slow at first and then farther away, until the sound finally disappeared.
I didn’t move right away, didn’t trust it, didn’t trust anything, until I forced myself to breathe again, my lungs dragging in air like I’d forgotten how.
“Sit,” I whispered, even though we already were, my hand still locked around Ruby’s arm.
We stayed like that as the opening above shifted wider for a moment, light spilling down and then fading again as whatever covered it slid back into place, sealing us in once more.
Because we weren’t out—not even close.
But now we had something.
And they had no idea.
