Chapter 9
Emmett's father had arrived with backup. They spent the night illuminating the well with fog lights and then a pump to drain the small level of water. For the first time in years, the Masen cottage came alive with activity again, and then his father went down into the tomb that had held onto his youngest son.
The bones were brittle and couldn't be moved without separation, but despite the macabre task at hand, he gently lifted each and every one and placed them on a tarp, ready to be lifted up and out of the well. He let no one assist him, it was the last thing he could do to help his child.
As the tarp was raised, I watched from the patio door. Edward Masen had finally found the freedom he had been begging for, but he would never have his life back and for that I was heartbroken.
In the distance of the garden, Edward stood and watched his family salvage his body. As the dawn light appeared over the horizon, the image of a ghostly man changed into the spirit of the boy he had been when he'd died.
A ray of sunlight glowed brightly and seemed to be inviting and I watched as Edward smiled, raised his hand to me, and then turned and entered the light. In a second he was gone and I prayed that for all of eternity, Edward never felt cold, trapped or alone again.
Emmett stood beside me and cradled me tight against his side. I felt comfort in his touch and hoped he felt some from mine.
