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Rope Between Faith

Hana’s fingers locked around the rope, arms shaking under the weight of responsibility. He lowered himself inch by inch into the dark, his voice drifting upward. “Steady. A little slack. Hold now.” She followed every command, fighting the panic bubbling in her chest.

The well seemed bottomless. The rope slid slowly through her blistering hands, each pull stretching time into something unbearable. Her focus narrowed to rhythm: release, hold, release. Her companion trusted her grip completely, and that trust terrified her. One mistake would mean everything. Her shoulders ached, palms burned, but she clung tighter. “He’s depending on me,” she whispered, pressing the words against her fear.

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