The officer’s shoulders slumped. He exhaled, the edge of anger softening into something closer to respect. “Stubborn bastard,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a rough laugh. Daniel laughed too, the release of a night’s worth of fear spilling out. They clasped hands, firm and steady.
By morning, the sirens were gone. Reporters had packed up, the sinkhole sealed with barriers. Daniel sat on the porch with Claire, the boys tumbling across the grass, laughter returning to the yard. Their home bore scars, but it was theirs. And this time, the earth had given them back safety instead of taking it away.