They aren’t gossips, and I will tell them to keep it to themselves.” she sobbed, a hitch in her voice.“Jesus, Stacy. Fuck!” I growled, my bloo... pressure rising. “I gotta go. Talk to you later.” I disconnected, barely stopping myself from throwing the phone across the room.FUCK!The phone rang again and it was Stacy, calling back. I sent it to voicemail, and the next two calls as well. I could not talk to her right now, not and remain civil.I made it to dinner before I got another call, the phone. That was remarkable. Aunt Rachel knew where we were. Why hadn't she sent someone to check on us?I turned on the helmet light again and, with some relief, saw that it had made at least a temporary recovery overnight. The light from the lamp above my eyes was ample. I took my broken barrel stave in hand again, climbed to the top of the barrel, and made a few more passes at snagging the rope on the nails extending from the stave. As before, I touched the rope several times but didn't manage to get. More

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