Scrape, stomp, swing, thump.

My sister's voice murmured from somewhere above as dug, but I couldn’t hear what was said. Not over the sound of shifting soil. I continued to dig, as if hypnotized by the staccato of my shovel striking the ground: Scrape, stomp, swing, thump.

“Hey,” Heidi said again.

Scrape, stomp, swing, thump.

Correction: I wasn’t hypnotized. I just didn’t want to hear it. Whatever it was. “Hey yourself.”

Scrape, stomp, swing, thump.

“We need to talk.”

I exhaled through my nose, a muted scoff. “Okay.”

Scrape, stomp, swing, thump.

Her voice raised, “I need to tell you something.”

I paused and sucked in a deep breath. I looked up.

Heidi towered over the elbow-deep pit I stood in, her silhouette framed by a pale overcast sky. A curtain of dark, disheveled hair spilled out of her sweatshirt hood and fell about her face. She incessantly twisted her wedding ring about her finger.

My grip on the shovel tightened. My blisters burned. Why hadn’t she taken that damn ring off yet?

“I’m late.”

“To what?”

My sister stopped fiddling with her ring.

My attention returned to her face and I found her glaring at me.

“I’m late,” Heidi repeated.

I slumped backwards against the cool wall of dirt behind me. “Oh.”

“So...” Heidi climbed down to sit at the edge of the hole. “I took the test. And it’s positive.”

“You’re positive?” I stammered, “I mean, you’re sure?”

Heidi turned to the side, and her gaze fell upon the rusty wheel barrow several feet away. “Yeah.”

My eyes followed. We both stared at the black plastic bundle slumped inside. Long strips of silver duct tape secured the trash bags swaddling the indistinct shape. It could have been anything all wrapped up in there, if it weren’t for the head and shoulders.

“Wow.”

Heidi snorted at my response. She yanked off her wedding ring and tossed it into the hole.