Chapter 3

Above the well, Uncle Harrison's shouting grew louder and more frantic. "Benjamin, you've lost your mind! Gabriel's life is on the line here. Let's just get him out first!"

"For what?"

Dad's voice cracked. "So he can watch my daughter go kill herself on the force?"

The two men scuffled over the sickle. Uncle Harrison let out a panicked cry. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Stay back! Both of you!"

Dad panted heavily.

"Benjamin, put the sickle down!" Uncle Harrison yelled.

Dad laughed. The sound echoed down the well, warped and sounding more like a sob.

"If someone has to die with Gabriel, it might as well be me. What do I have left to live for anyway? My wife died when I was young, and now that I'm old, my daughter wants to die, too. What was the point of all my sacrifice, huh? For what?"

A heavy thud shook the top of the well. He had sat right down on the wooden cover.

The boards groaned and sagged under his weight, sending a shower of dirt and gravel raining down on my head.

Instinctively, I raised a hand to wipe my eyes, and my fingertips lost their grip on the crevices.

My body plummeted.

The freezing well water surged past my waist, submerging me to my chest.

I thrashed wildly, my hands clawing blindly in the dark, but my fingernails merely scraped against the slick, muddy walls. I couldn't get a grip on anything.

The muffled sounds of my splashing echoed up the well.

Uncle Harrison's voice sounded tense. "Gabriel? Gabriel!"

I opened my mouth, but only a mouthful of blood poured out. With my tongue mangled, I couldn't form a single intelligible sound.

Nothing came out of the depths of my throat but a raw, muffled cry.

"Gabriel fell in the water!" Uncle Harrison screamed.

Dad's voice grew cold and dismissive. "He's just trying to guilt you, Isabelle. Don't fall for it."

"Dad…" Isabelle gasped, her voice cracking. "Just let me check on him, please!"

"Rip up the admission letter first."

The edge of the sickle clicked sharply against the wooden planks.

"I'm counting to three," said Dad. "If you don't tear it up, I'm swinging this down. One—"

"Fine! I'll do it!" Isabelle finally screamed.

The sound of shredding paper drifted down the well. It felt as though the very air in the well was growing thinner with every piece that fell.

Isabelle's voice was trembling. "Dad, can you move the car now?"

Submerged in the freezing water, every single inch of my body throbbed with agony. The well water soaked into my open wounds, stinging as if someone were rubbing salt into the raw flesh.

Once again, I had become a weight around Isabelle's neck.

But Dad wasn't done yet. "Now take that pistol the academy issued you and throw it down the mountain. Do it right now."

At this, Uncle Harrison exploded with fury. "If she loses that pistol, she won't be able to make it through the police academy!"

Dad remained utterly unfazed. "She already tore up the letter, so what does she need a pistol for? Throw it, or this sickle goes down right now."

"Dad," Isabelle said, her voice shaking. "Are you really going to keep pushing until there's nothing left of us?"

At the bottom of the well, my movements grew slower and weaker.

My fingers could no longer grip the stones, and my legs refused to tread water. The freezing liquid rushed into my nose and mouth, tasting of mud and the metallic tang of blood.

My body felt heavier by the second, as if something were dragging me under, inch by inch.

The voices overhead drifted further away, blurring into an indistinguishable hum. I could no longer make out what they were saying.

I knew right then that I wasn't going to make it.

This time, Dad finally got exactly what he wanted. He had sacrificed my life just to burn Isabelle's future to the ground.

All I wanted to do was apologize to Isabelle. In the next life, I wouldn't be a burden to her anymore.