We’d gone to my grandmother’s twin to ask her about Ana’s baby. Lily had been there when we’d arrived, and by the time we’d gotten midway through our conversation with Ellen, Aunt Olivia had interrupted.

Not my aunt. If she’s Ellen’s daughter, she’s not my aunt.

I thought back to the picture I’d seen on the fridge in the Two Arrows house: Ellen, with her six children. The oldest was a girl, one who closely resembled Ellen—and Lillian.

And Aunt Olivia. The picture was old enough and the resolution crappy enough that I hadn’t been able to tell how close the resemblance between Ellen’s daughter and Aunt Olivia was.

What were the chances that they looked identical?

“I’m not leaving you.” Sadie-Grace was stubborn. She’d made her way out of the hole, but didn’t want to leave me. Unfortunately, whatever drug we’d been given was wearing off more slowly for me. The feeling was just now starting to return to my body. Even if Sadie-Grace could somehow get me out of what amounted to an open grave, until I could shake the numbness, until I could really move—I’d just slow her down.

“You have to.” I willed her to listen to me. “I have no idea where we are, but you need to be somewhere else when she gets back.”

The hole was significantly lonelier without Sadie-Grace. I had too much time to think about the fact that I might not get out of here.

About all the things I might never get to say.

I forced my arms to move. The movement hurt. I’d never been so grateful for pain in my entire life. It only hurts if you can feel it. I can feel my arms. The legs are getting there.

Sadie-Grace had left me propped up. Trying to shift my weight sent me facedown into the dirt. I managed to roll, all too aware that if I’d ended up facedown when Aunt Olivia—or whoever the hell she was—had tossed us down here, I probably would have suffocated.

Who knew what could happen still?

Sadie-Grace will get help. I struggled to my knees, trying not to really think about the fact that I was pinning my future survival on Sadie-Grace Waters, who had once told me, in all seriousness, that she thought that fish probably went to a separate heaven, because in regular heaven, people ate fish.

“Sawyer?” In the distance, I heard someone call my name. “Sadie-Grace? Are you guys out there?”

Campbell, I thought. Thank God.

CHAPTER 55