"In the pantry. Three nights ago."
Clara shook her head.
"There was no note."
Daniel's expression changed.
He looked toward Edgar.
Then back at Samuel.
"I left it beneath the flour sack."
Clara remembered moving that flour sack.
There had been nothing beneath it.
Daniel stared at her.
Then he whispered, "Someone took it."
The chamber fell silent.
Edgar looked toward the tunnel.
For the first time, Samuel saw something beyond fear in the old man's face.
A calculating expression.
A man thinking about an exit.
Daniel slowly turned toward him.
"You."
Edgar said nothing.
Daniel's voice hardened.
"You found my note."
The old man looked away.
Samuel stepped between them.
"Enough. Nobody leaves until we understand what happened."
Daniel lowered the rifle, though he did not set it aside.
Clara looked toward the open ledger.
Something bothered her.
The dates.
The payments.
The references to a sealed tunnel.
They did not fit neatly with the story Daniel had told.
She reached for the ledger again.
Then turned to the final page.
There, written in her father's unmistakable handwriting, was a sentence that made her stop.
The boy must never learn whose blood was on the stones.
She stared at the words.
Then looked at Samuel.
"Darling."
He turned.
She held up the book.
"There's something you need to see."
Samuel read the sentence twice.
The boy.
Whose blood?
He turned toward Edgar.
"What boy?"
The old man closed his eyes.
Daniel looked confused.
Samuel approached him.
"What boy?"
Edgar whispered, "Your father had a reason for keeping you away from the mine."
Samuel felt his heartbeat quicken.
"Tell me."
The old man shook his head.
Samuel stepped closer.
"Tell me."
Edgar looked at Clara.
Then at Daniel.
Finally, he said, "There was an accident when you were seven."
Samuel stared.
"What accident?"
"You fell in the tunnel."
"No."
Edgar nodded.
"Your father found you near the sealed passage."
Samuel's mind filled with scattered images.
A lantern.
A cold stone floor.
Someone shouting.
Blood on his hands.
And a man's voice.
Begging for water.
He gripped the edge of the table.
Clara hurried to him.
"Samuel?"
He shook his head slowly.
"I remember a man."
Edgar nodded.
Samuel whispered, "He was alive."
The old man said nothing.
Samuel looked toward the sealed wall.
Then something else returned.
A woman's voice.
His mother.
Crying.
He remembered her standing beside the old mine entrance, holding a lantern.
He remembered his father shouting at her.
And he remembered a small hand reaching through a gap between the stones.
Samuel stumbled backward.
Clara caught his arm.
"Samuel."
His breathing became shallow.
"The man wasn't begging my father for water."
Edgar looked up.
Samuel stared at him.
"He was begging me."
Clara guided Samuel to the cot.
He sat heavily.