The Chandelier Room was breathtaking—Zoe’s eyes didn’t know what to devour first. In the middle of the chamber, there was a giant boulder encased in translucent ice. The waterfall struck it dead center, then splashed in every direction like a demented fountain. The walls were coated in ice as well. Here, though, the ice was as thick and wavy as cake frosting, and it glowed with the sleepy, blue-green light of an aquarium. Every 20 feet or so, there were massive, almost melted-looking columns of rock. (Her father wouldn’t shut up today: “They’re not columns of rock, Zoe! They’re limestone pillars! Come on—respect your rocks!”)
Zoe stepped carefully on the frozen floor, running her bare hands along every surface, then shoving them inside her jacket to warm. She was transfixed. Everything in the chamber seemed as ancient as the earth, yet somehow still evolving, still breathing, still being formed. And just when Zoe thought the Chandelier Room couldn’t get any more mesmerizing…
She looked up.
The ceiling was hung with icicles of every conceivable size. It looked like an upside-down forest, like some massive musical instrument that had yet to be invented. It was gorgeous. She swept her eyes along the ice, greedily. Her headlamp made the whole thing glow.
It was only when Zoe felt something crunch under her feet—a shard of plastic from the walkie-talkie—that she remembered Dallas. He’d be up there, pacing around with his injured hand in his pocket, possibly freaking out. The walkie-talkie was busted beyond repair but she collected all the bits she could find and stuffed them in her pack.
She returned to where the rope hung down the shaft. It was covered with ice, so she thwacked it against the wall like she was beating a rug. Looking up, she could see fragments of the water—little jets and beads—catch the light of her headlamp as they fell.
She hooked herself onto the rope once more, and began to rise.
Zoe crawled out of the cave 20 minutes later, dizzy and drenched. The crystals of frost at the entrance floated down on her shoulders like a good-bye present.
She struggled to her feet, dropped her pack in the snow, and gulped in as much air as her lungs could hold. Her legs felt rickety. She wobbled like a newborn colt for the first few steps. Otherwise, she felt lighter in every way. She felt lifted.
Dallas stepped toward her, beaming and offering an orange towel from his pack. He seemed not to know if he should hug her, so Zoe threw her arms around him and squeezed gratefully.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” said Zoe.
She worried it wasn’t sufficient so she added, in his own language, “You’re a full-on baller and a boss—thank you!”
She felt exhilarated. The air was lighting up her blood.
“Okay, okay,” said Dallas, breaking off the hug. “You’re starting to feel attracted to me. I warned you.”
“How long was I down there?” she said. “Half an hour?”
“Two and a half hours,” he said.
“Two and a half hours?” said Zoe. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, dawg,” said Dallas. “Shit like this is special.”
Zoe took a picture of them in front of the entrance to the cave so she could Snapchat it to Val when she had a signal again. She scrawled a caption across the top in yellow:
Cave: Silver Teardrop! Crushed by: Zoe!
Dallas’s wrist was still buried in his pocket. He wouldn’t show it to Zoe, so she assumed it was swollen and purple. He promised he was fine. He insisted they still go check out Black Teardrop. Maybe she was being selfish, but Zoe needed to see the place her father died, no matter how wet she was—she needed to see it right now, while the adrenaline was still racing around in her blood.
“We’re just going to look today, right?” said Dallas. “We’re just gonna say hello, or whatever? You’re not gonna trick me, and rig up?”
“No tricks,” said Zoe. “But you have to promise that we’ll come back if the police won’t do their job.”
“With a blanket,” said Dallas. “For Jonah. I remember.”
“Was that a promise?” said Zoe.
“That was a promise,” said Dallas.
“Because now you know I’m not scared of any cave,” said Zoe.
Dallas’s snowshoes thumped softly behind her.
“I knew that already,” he said.
The hike to Black Teardrop was short, but exhausting. The snow rose in front of them in huge, untouched swells. Zoe could feel her back and legs complaining to each other, ready to mutiny.