Page 93 of Gatsby's Starlet
I heard the shift, the scrape of her knees hitting the ground beside me as she leaned in, her hands coming down a secondlater, digging in faster this time, rougher, like she needed to do something with the panic sitting under her skin.
We didn’t talk.
Didn’t waste breath on it.
Just worked.
The dirt gave easier now where we’d already loosened it, falling away faster under our fingers as we cleared the stone again, exposing the edge, then more of it, the cold surface pressing back against our palms like it was part of the wall itself.
“On three,” I said, adjusting my grip again, forcing my fingers deeper under the lip we’d uncovered.
She nodded, even though I couldn’t see it.
“One—two—”
We pushed.
The stone resisted at first, solid and unmoving, and for a second it felt exactly like before, like we weren’t going to get anything out of it… then it shifted.
More than last time. Not much. But enough.
“Again,” Ruby breathed, something raw breaking through in her voice now.
We reset and pushed harder, both of us putting everything into it, our shoulders straining, dirt collapsing in around our hands as the stone scraped again, louder this time, grinding against whatever held it in place before giving way another inch.
Cold air rushed through the gap, stronger now, carrying something with it that wasn’t just damp earth.
Open space.
“Keep going,” I said, even though my arms were already shaking, even though my fingers were starting to slip against the edge.
We pushed again.
This time the stone gave enough to tilt, one side dropping slightly as the dirt beneath it broke loose, opening the gap wider,enough that I could see past it now, not clearly, not fully, but enough to know it wasn’t just packed dirt behind it.
There was a drop. Not far. But enough.
My breath caught for a second as I leaned closer, squinting into the dark, trying to make it out.
“I think it leads somewhere,” I said, quieter now, more focused. “Not just another wall.”
Ruby shifted beside me, leaning in too fast, her shoulder knocking into mine as she tried to see. “Then we go,” she said immediately, the words tumbling out. “We go now—”
“Wait,” I cut in, grabbing her arm before she could push forward.
The edge wasn’t stable.
I could feel it in the way the dirt shifted under the stone, in the way the gap widened unevenly, like the whole thing could collapse if we rushed it.
“It’s not steady,” I said, forcing myself to slow down even though everything in me wanted to move. “If it drops, it could bury the opening.”
“And if we stay, we die,” she snapped back, the panic breaking through again, louder now.
She wasn’t wrong.
I looked back at the gap, at the darkness beyond it, then at the stone still half-set in place, heavy enough that if it slipped wrong it could pin us, or worse.
We didn’t have time to do this clean, and we didn’t have time to do it right.
