For Love

Chapter 39

LAURIE

Jason won't make it.

It was an impossible expectation, Sister Agnes told her. How could he know where to look?

What will he feel when he finds my body—

No, the nun's stern voice rattled around in Laurie's mind. Don't think about that.

Laurie whimpered, her eyes darting back and forth, seeing nothing.

Breathe in, breathe out.

She obediently got herself under control, and Laurie thought less about her surroundings as her mind gave up on the possibility of survival. The gown stuck to her, drenched in sweat mingled with whiskey, and the air had lost its sweetness. Her head didn't bother her much as long as she didn't move. She couldn't have been there terribly long, but it felt like an eternity of darkness. Staying awake was agony, but she didn't dare sleep. In time she would sleep forever.

So be it. Sherman might have killed her, but Laurie wouldn't let her last thoughts be about the bad things in her life. She would deny Sherman her suffering.

First, Laurie thought of everyone she should probably forgive before she met her maker. Sherman, Richard, Kenna, her father... even Sister Agnes, who scoffed at the idea. Between moments of fuzziness, she prayed for forgiveness for her feelings toward them and prayed for forgiveness for her mistakes against others. She even prayed for Sherman's soul, though she had little hope for him. Her heart hammered against her chest as she thought of all the things he had done, and the possibilities of the things she didn't know about. She thought of his description of "practice" and her breaths quickened.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Then she imagined all the things she hadn't done yet, refusing to shed tears for them. Seeing Candy and Jeremy marry. Enjoying a visit from Jenny. Having children of her own. Would they have had Jason's striking blue eyes or would they have been green like hers? Oh! She had always hoped to see her father again. If she had, she would have looked him in the eye to say the words that had been in her heart for years. What she wouldn't give to have been able to sing in front of him like she had for Jason on his birthday. Or even better, sing for them at Maguire's one last time...

I wonder if Jason met Mark when he went to San Francisco? He never said.

Silence.

I wish I could touch Jason's face one more time.

She squirmed, trying not to cry, and for a moment she couldn't catch her breath. She tried to clutch at her throat, her hands scraping against the top of the box. She made a wretched sobbing noise, and Sister Agnes' command came into focus, taking over for her just as she closed her eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out.

JASON

Jeremy returned to the group around the hole and shook his head. "If Campbell had any more equipment, he took it with him."

Jason grunted. At first, the other men had tried to help him dig, but that had ended in frustration when they got in each other's way. Using their hands hadn't really done much good, so Jeremy had scoured the area for something else to use.

"That's how he works," said Kincaid, nodding. "He doesn't leave much to chance." He stepped closer to Hannah when she sneezed.

"That girl's shivering and the boy is dead on his feet," Richard observed. To Kincaid, he said, "Take them all back to the cabin. I'll stay here with Bolt."