Olivia
The night air whistled past the car as we sped down the road, a harmonious blend of dread and relief knotting my stomach.
My fingers tightened around the little wooden box, the secret within serving as a physical reminder of the danger we were in. It was smaller than I had imagined, and it had an ornately carved lid. It looked as though Alvin had purchased it overseas during his time in the military.
Its contents, however, were of far more interest to me than its exterior; and its oddly disconcerting lightness filled my stomach with an eerie feeling.
I had never thought that I would be holding my friend’s severed hand inside a little wooden box that I had just dug out of the ground.
In the dim light of the dashboard, Nathan's face was a mix of concentration an
