Recalling the terror of that day brought a cramp to her stomach, and she clutched the side of her seat until her fingers ached. She’d hoped never to set eyes on this place again, yet here she was trying to point the way to her reoccurring nightmare. Royce pulled the gig to the side of the narrow path and halted. The wagon stopped behind him. John and Blair waited for Royce to climb down. Royce turned to Bethany. “You’re certain this is the place?” She gazed at the brush that covered the forest floor converging on the narrow, overgrown wagon ruts, marking the passageway southward, and nodded her head. “I’ll never forget. I halted in this very spot. Then I strolled through the woods, my thoughts on my quarrel with Aunt Gertrude.” She indicated the area straight ahead with a gesture. “The digging sound came from that direction.” John and Blair climbed out of the wagon and waited while Royce scrambled down.
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