Chapter 4

The rain started a few hours later. It was cold and relentless. I huddled at the bottom of the mine shaft, shivering, my ankle throbbing with a deep, agonizing pain. I tried to climb out, but the wet earth crumbled in my hands, and the pain in my ankle was too much to bear. I was trapped.

Morning came slowly, a sliver of gray light appearing at the top of the shaft. The rain had stopped. I was soaked, freezing, and my ankle was swollen to twice its normal size. I must have passed out at some point, because the next thing I knew, I heard voices above me.

"Hey! Anyone down there?"

It was two of the local men, the same ones who had watched my public shaming. They had been checking old mining sites after the storm. They lowered a rope and hauled me out. I was too weak and cold to even thank them properly.

They took me to the town's small clinic. It was just a couple of rooms with a doctor who smelled of coffee and cigarettes. He confirmed my ankle was badly sprained and that I was suffering from hypothermia. They put me in a bed, covered me with blankets, and hooked me up to an IV.

As I lay there, drifting in and out of a pained, feverish sleep, I heard voices just outside the open window of my room.

"It was perfect," Caleb's voice said, low and triumphant. "Number eight. He fell for it completely."

"I was a little worried when the storm hit," Jocelyn replied, a note of excitement in her voice. "But it just made it better. The perfect eighth prank."

My eyes snapped open. I pushed myself up, ignoring the shooting pain in my ankle. I limped to the window and looked out. They were standing there, by Caleb's car, smiling at each other.

I pushed the window open wider. "Jocelyn."

They both turned, their smiles vanishing. Jocelyn's face paled.

"Ethan! You're okay!" She rushed over, her face a performance of relief and concern. "I went to get help, but the storm was too bad, and I got lost..."

"Save it," I said, my voice rough. "I heard you. I heard both of you. 'The perfect eighth prank.'"

Jocelyn's eyes filled with tears, a practiced, false apology. "Ethan, I don't know what you're talking about. I..."

Caleb stepped forward, his arrogance returning. "Looks like you're having a rough couple of days, Lester. First the gas, now this. Maybe this town just doesn't agree with you."

"This was about the rumor, wasn't it?" I said, looking directly at Caleb. "The one about you and the therapist. I told you, I never said anything."

"Right," Caleb scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You expect me to believe that? You ruined my life, and now you're getting a little taste of what it feels like."

He dismissed my words completely, turning his back on me. Jocelyn gave me one last tearful, pleading look before Caleb pulled her away. I watched them go, the truth burning in my gut. It didn't matter what I said. They had their story, and they were sticking to it.

I leaned back against the wall, the pain in my ankle a dull ache compared to the cold, hard certainty that had settled in my chest. This wasn't just a game anymore. This was dangerous.