For a moment, time seemed to stretch. The roar faded, leaving only the hiss of shifting soil and the boys’ ragged sobs. Claire held them tighter, whispering reassurances she didn’t believe. Daniel forced himself to step back from the rim. The sinkhole looked bottomless, a wound still widening beneath their lives.
The family huddled together on the porch, too shaken to speak. Across the street, neighbors called out—questions, prayers, panicked guesses. Someone finally dialed emergency services. Daniel stared at his sons, dust streaking their cheeks, and realized with dread that he didn’t know how to explain this. Not as a father. Not even as a scientist.