Daniel collapsed, his voice breaking into something unrecognizable.
And then—
Celeste stepped forward.
She pointed at the rope.
Then at the hole.
“Tie it around me,” she said quietly.
The entire world seemed to stop breathing.
She didn’t cry.
She didn’t hesitate.
She simply stood there, small and steady, as if she had already made the decision long before anyone else understood what was happening.
They secured the harness around her, hands trembling as they worked, while I knelt beside her, trying to steady my voice.
“It’s going to be tight, dark, and cold,” I told her.
“I know,” she replied.
“When you reach her, you put this around her—like a hug, okay?”
“Like a hug,” she repeated.
Then she sat at the edge, slipped through the iron bars, and disappeared into the darkness.
“Lowering,” the fire chief ordered.
Her light descended slowly.
“It’s tight,” she whispered.
“Breathe out,” I told her.
She slid further.
“It’s wet… the walls are crying,” she said softly.
“I’m coming,” she called.
“I’m scared!” came the echo from below.
“I’m here,” Celeste answered, calm and steady.
She reached her sister, dangling above the black water, and said, “Don’t move. I have to give you the hug.”