Slowly, with painstaking effort, a hole began to take shape. The soft earth beneath grass and stone gave way to the shovel with a satisfying sound. Bit by bit, what had been a flat patch of ground became a void, a lack that cried out desperately for its purpose.

Jacob paused a moment to wipe the beading sweat from his brow, resting his arm against the shovel’s handle. The moon was bright, and Jacob needed no more light than it and the stars could provide to examine his handiwork. Another few feet deeper and square off the corners, he thought. Then it would be just the same as its twin beside it, or as close as anyone could ever tell. If it was lesser in any way, would it matter? He wondered for a moment if they would measure them both once they found this place; if they would think him the villain and give him the smaller one. He wondered if they’d give him a burial at all.

Jacob grinned ruefully and took up the shovel again. Wondering led nowhere. There was still time to dig before the busy day ahead.

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