Earthquake Reveals Tunnel On Farmer’s Land, Then They See Where It Leads

Her Mark

Harold’s flashlight tilted toward a shallow recess in the rock. Inside lay a dust-covered hard hat, battered but unmistakably marked with two carved letters: “MW.”

Marco reached out with shaking hands. His mother’s initials. The same ones he had followed here. She had left her mark, proof that she had walked this path.