48
Jessa
Twenty-six hours, forty minutes buried
The ringing in my ears receded just enough that I tried to sit up.
It was a mistake.
I couldn ’ t move at all.
Five minutes earlier, I ’ d been balancing at the top of the mattress stack, heart in my throat, waiting for Sage to call down that she ’ d gotten herself all the way up and out of the chute.
I couldn ’ t believe she ’ d done it. I was so proud of her. I was so proud of all of us. We ’ d fought, and we were going to win. We weren ’ t going to die down here after all.
Then the roar, the crack of plywood, and the rush of dirt and mud that came pouring into the chute—and down on top of me—happened so fast I didn ’ t even have time to brace.
The force of it had knocked me flat on my back, sending the mattresses we ’ d stacked up toppling to the sound of shrieks and screams all around.
“ My arm is hurt,” someone hiccup-cried.
“ There ’ s a big splinter in my tummy!” a high-pitched voice repeated again and again. “ A big splinter!”
“ Ms. Jessa? Ms. Jessa? ” some of the kids kept asking, crowding around to push away the heavy, wet clods of mud that half-covered my body.
I blinked and tried to move again, terrified when my body still didn ’ t respond. I didn ’ t feel pain. I didn ’ t feel anything at all, except for that ringing in my ears and thumping in my head.
Now you ’ ve reached hell, my mind whispered.
“ Sage! What happened to Sage?” Bonnie ’ s voice, shrill and terrified, kept asking above the other voices crying and yelling.
“ She ’ s going to get us help,” I croaked, hoping Bonnie couldn ’ t tell that I was crying every bit as hard as she was.
I didn ’ t believe what I ’ d just told her. For all I knew, the force of those plywood walls caving in had pulled her back down into the shaft and buried her alive.
Like us.
If the bunker had felt like a tomb before, there was no question it absolutely was now.
“ I feel dizzy,” someone said softly as the screams and cries died to whimpers.
“ Me too.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling of the tears sliding down my cheeks. “ Everybody lie down and breathe really slowly and calmly, okay?” I managed to choke out. “ One at a time, everyone tell me who ’ s hurt and who ’ s okay?”
One at a time, they did, murmuring and snuffling as they felt around for each other in the dark and obediently lay down beside me.
I counted the voices until I got to nine. Everyone except Sage.
We were all still alive down here—but it wouldn ’ t be for long now.
My tears fell faster. Even before the cave-in, I could tell that the carbon dioxide from our own breath was starting to compete with the small amount of fresh air coming into the bunker. How soon would we get so dizzy and lightheaded we ’ d pass out? How soon after that would we stop breathing altogether?
I ’ m so sorry, Soph. I ’ m so sorry .
It had all been for nothing. I ’ d lost Sophie three years ago, and I would never, ever get her back now.
And knowing that was unbearable.
I floated with that despair for a few breaths.
I was going to die down here. We were all going to die down here, and soon.
Then my mind drifted back to the advice that the prison counselor had given me.
Imagine what you want most.
I accept my past, understand my present, and look forward to my future.
The words turned over dull in my mind. I ’ d heard them—and even repeated them—so many times. They ’ d only ever been words, though. Something to play along with to please my counselor. And recently, something to comfort the kids.
But not this time. This time they hit hard. Because they were all I had left to cling to.
During all that time I ’ d spent in prison—and even when I got out—I couldn ’ t stop rewinding. Obsessing over and mourning the moments I ’ d missed with Sophie.
I couldn ’ t accept what had happened. What I ’ d done. Where it had landed me. I couldn ’ t bring myself to look forward to a future that was tied to that horrifying past. Because what if my daughter never forgave me? What if she couldn ’ t bring herself to love me anymore or call me “ Mom ” again? What if there was no way to repair the damage?
But all of a sudden, a switch seemed to flip. My mind zipped into fast-forward, to the moments I ’ d been afraid to visualize or even admit to myself. The moments I wanted so badly—and was about to lose forever.
All of those second chances, all of those hopes, all of those possibilities for the future, gone. Before I ’ d even let myself hope they could ever be real.
I ’ d kept myself so busy mourning the time and memories and trust I ’ d lost with Soph, so busy feeling discouraged over how much she ’ d resisted my first attempts at returning to her life, I ’ d barely let myself think about how many good things could still be ahead. A whole unlived lifetime that was now slipping through my fingers with every breath I took.
I gritted my teeth to keep the sob back, but I couldn ’ t hold in the whimper.
“ Ms. Jessa, you got hurt bad?” Rose asked.
“ I ’ m sorry,” I choked, not wanting to scare the kids any more than they were already. That was the least I could do in whatever time we had left. “ No,” I lied. “I just need a second.”
“ When I get out, I ’ m going to take a really good bath,” Bonnie whispered next to my ear, her voice as shaky as mine.
I squeezed my eyes shut on the river of tears, not stopping any of them from cascading down my face. “ Thank you, Bonnie.” The despair that had become my constant companion over the past three and a half years swirled faster, harder, until it felt like an undertow. Inevitable, impossible to resist.
But to my surprise, something inside me still wanted to resist, kicking out against the current, even as my head started to feel dizzy and faraway.
I decided then and there that if I was going to die down here, I was going to die with hope. With my heart open, just like I ’ d asked these kids to do but had never actually done myself.
When I get out, I ’ m going to write Soph a letter, telling her how much I love her and how sorry I am, even if she never reads it.
When I get out, I ’ m going to decorate the spare bedroom in my apartment for her, even if she ’ s not ready to stay in it yet.
I ’ m going to slip a dollar under her pillow every time she loses a tooth—even if she ’ s still at Lisa ’ s house.
I ’ m going to get her the best back-to-school shoes and a new dress, even if she won ’ t come shopping with me.
I ’ m going to offer to hug her until the day she finally lets me. And when she finally lets me, it will be the best day of my life.
I ’ m going to show up for her every single day, every single moment, until she ’ s ready to let me back in.
The tears slid down my cheeks hot and fast. One of the kids—I couldn ’ t tell who—nuzzled closer to my shoulder. “ We ’ re going to be all right,” I whispered, reaching for the last flicker of hope I could find.