“Let go, Alice,” he said.

“Pull me up! Pull me up!”

“I said, let go.” He lifted a rock and brought it down on her hand.

She shrieked and lost her grip. Slid feetfirst into the hole, landing on a bed of dead leaves.

“ Alice. Alice.”

Stunned by the fall, she looked up at the circle of sky above, and saw the silhouette of his head, leaning forward, peering down at her.

“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed. “Why?”

“It’s nothing personal. I just want to see how long it takes. Seven months for a kitty. How long do you think it’ll take you?”

“You can’t do this to me!”

“Bye-bye, Alice.”

“Elijah! Elijah!”

The wooden boards slid across the opening, eclipsing the circle of light. Her last glimpse of sky vanished. This isn’t real, she thought. This is a joke. He’s just trying to scare me. He’ll leave me down here for a few minutes, and then he’ll come back and let me out. Of course he’ll come back.

Then she heard something thud onto the well cover. Rocks. He’s piling rocks on top.

She stood up and tried to climb out of the hole. Found a dry wisp of vine that immediately disintegrated in her hands. She clawed at the dirt, but could not find a handhold, could not pull herself even a few inches without sliding back. Her screams pierced the darkness.

“Elijah!” she shrieked.

Her only answer was stones thudding onto wood.

ONE

Pesez le matin que vous n’irez peut-être pas jusqu’au soir,

Et au soir que vous n’irez peut-être pas jusqu’au matin.

Be aware every morning that you may not last the day,

And every evening that you may not last the night.

– ENGRAVED PLAQUE IN THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS