Breathe slowly and shallowly.
Soon she would be free and wouldn’t have to be so miserly over air.
She just had to wait.
Gregory would be with her as soon as he could.
Until she’d found herself in the dark, left to face her thoughts, fears, hopes, and dreams, she hadn’t realized just how dear he’d become to her—how much he’d become the center of her existence—but she now knew that as truth. Her truth.
She knew others saw her as the central figure in the Bellamy Hall universe, but everyone needed someone else—some special person—to anchor them and give their life meaning.
For her, Gregory was that person.
He’d come to Bellamy Hall and surprised them all by staying, yet he hadn’t tried to take over, as she’d feared he would.
Instead, he’d worked with her, alongside her, and she’d discovered she truly liked and valued the companionship that had engendered. That sense that they were both working to the same end, toward the same goal.
That keeping Bellamy Hall and its eccentric residents and esoteric businesses afloat was a shared endeavor.
She hadn’t realized how much that meant to her until she’d been left in utter darkness with nothing else to think about other than what she stood to lose.
But she understood now—so much—and as soon as she saw Gregory, she would tell him of all she’d learned of herself while lying alone in the dark.
The instant the third massive stone block was hauled away, revealing the crypt door, cheers erupted on all sides.
Too tense to smile, Gregory seized the lantern Blackie had been holding and leapt down to the level of the door. The latch lifted easily. With Rory at his back, Gregory shouldered the door wide, stepped inside, and held the lantern high.
The beam illuminated a set of stone steps leading down to a cavernous chamber full of tombs and shadows. Some graves were carved into the walls, while sepulchers stood in haphazard ranks, taking up most of the floor.
Memories from when he’d last been there with his siblings, exploring and playing among the tombs, rushed back to him.
“Mm!”The distant muffled sound reached him, followed by a dullthump, as if boots were striking the dusty floor.
Hope—nay, joy—surged through him. “Caitlin!”
The sound came again, and lowering the lantern to light the stairs, he hurried down. He hit the paved floor and strode on, down one of the two narrow aisles.
Rory, with Hamish on his heels, both also carrying lanterns, followed.
Gregory raised his lantern and played the light around, searching for some sign of Caitlin. Hamish and Rory did the same.
From the earlier sounds, Gregory thought she was somewhere deeper in the crypt. “Where are you?”
The thumping came again, clearer this time, and with a muttered curse, he forged ahead.
He went past her before a muffled murmur and athuddrew him back to a narrow passage between two tombs. He directed the lantern beam along the passage, then into the space at its end, and finally saw a blue coat and woolen skirts and a pair of half-boots bound with rope.
“Caitlin!” To the others, he called, “She’s here!”
A second later, he knelt beside her and set down the lantern. “Hold on—let’s get you free.”
Hamish called up the steps, “We’ve found her!”
Gregory helped her into a sitting position as a mumble that might have been “Thank God!” came from beneath the black hood.
Rory, followed by Hamish, squeezed into the narrow passage and hovered.
Gregory tugged at the rope binding Caitlin’s wrists, but she shook her head vigorously and incoherently expostulated, and he switched to prying at the knot in the scarf wound about the hood and her lower face.
