Chapter 4 - The Empty Grave
Meanwhile, back at the edge of the Vance woods, headlights pierced the darkness as Mark and his father, Arthur, returned to the pit under Eleanor's orders.
Eleanor had decided that leaving me buried to my shoulders was too risky; she wanted me completely gone, hidden deep within a sinkhole miles away.
Mark carried a heavy flashlight, his hands trembling as he approached the site. "Dad... I don't know about this. What if someone finds out?"
"Shut up, Mark!" Arthur barked, his voice filled with venom. "Your mother is protecting this family's reputation. That woman was going to ruin us!"
Mark stepped up to the edge of the pit and shone his flashlight down into the hole.
The light illuminated nothing but loose dirt, severed zip-ties, and a small trail of bloody footprints leading into the dark woods.
"She's... she's gone," Mark gasped, dropping the flashlight into the mud.
"What do you mean she's gone?!" Arthur yelled, rushing forward.
The pit was completely empty.
Panic set in like a cold frost. Mark fell to his knees, staring at the empty dirt. For the first time, the reality of what he had done crashed over him. He hadn't just betrayed his wife—he had hunted a phantom who was now out in the dark, watching them.
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"If she goes to the press..." Mark stammered, his face drained of color.
"She won't," Arthur growled, though his own voice shook. "She has no phone, no money, and no allies. She'll collapse in those woods. We tell your mother... we tell her it's taken care of."
