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So black that Ronnie couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.
He was in a box, a coffin, with nothing but the hard thud of his heart to mark the passing of time.
“I’m scared,” Tim whispered.
“Shh” Ronnie said. “They’ll hear us.”
Though they already knew the two of them were locked in the vestry. It wasn’t as though there were a whole lot of places to hide inside the red church.
Ronnie finally opened his eyes. The weak gleam of moon fought through a small window set high in the back wall. He could barely make out Tim’s pale face, though his eyes and mouth were steeped in shadows. He pressed his ear to the door again.
She has out there.