Her voice was hollow, blanketed and absorbed in the walls of their shared grave. Unsure if Ronnie heard, or if she’d even said the words at all, she called again, “Ronnie!” Blood pulsed through her ears.
“I’m here,” he replied, muffled.
She twisted her slender frame, forcing space between her hips and the packed snow. After a few more wiggles and jerks, her arms were free enough to dig at the red-flecked slush encasing her face.
“Can you move?” she asked, grimacing, able now to lift herself on her elbows.
“Ronnie!” Jessi shouted, as the next plow approached.