Marcus looked at his aunt, then at me.

“You’ve ruined us,” he said. “The house will go to the bank.”

“The house was never yours to lose,” I said.

The officer took Marcus by the arm.

Marcus didn’t fight him, but his boots dragged in the mud as he was led to the cruiser.

Aunt Caroline watched him go, her umbrella shaking in her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to me.

“Did you know about the graves, Aunt Caroline?” I asked.

She looked away, down toward the river.

“We always knew they were there,” she said. “We just didn’t want to look.”

She got back into her car and closed the door.

Blake came up beside me and put his arm around my shoulder.

“It’s over,” he said.

“No,” I said, looking at the open trench. “It’s just starting.”

The rain was beginning to wash more earth away from the ridge.

A small, dark object was beginning to emerge from the side of the cut.

I walked closer to the edge, ignoring Blake’s hand.

I shone my phone’s flashlight down into the mud.