Or, at least, that’s what Brooks used to say.
My throat tightens, but I ignore it, ignore the fact that I’m one of those discarded items.
Just not a treasure.
Trash that’s carefully tossed aside…or into the dumpster.
My hair is tucked up into my hat, my gloves are fully covering my hands, secured by the long sleeves of my black sweater. My leggings are dark and go straight down to my ankles, an inch of which are exposed. I scowl, even knowing I can’t do anything about that—I’m tiny, but Iamwearing another one of those thrift store finds, these being children’s leggings. Still, I do my best to tug them down, to cover the slight gap of skin showing.
I know the security system.
But…I need every advantage I can get.
So blending into the shadows.
Wearing all black.
And gloves.
And tucking my hair carefully into my hat.
And—
“Stalling,” I whisper softly. And I am.
Because the self-preservation portion of my brain can’t imagine I’m doing this. Then again, the self-preservation portion of my brain has shriveled up into nothing over the last years.
Lockpicks in my pocket.
It’s just after two in the morning, so the guards will be rotating soon.
Cloudy night. New moon. Guard change.
This will be my only chance.
I squint at the screen of my analog watch—another thrift store find—then up at the house. The shadows shift slightly, and, yup, there they go, the guards pushing away from the wall, walking in pairs.
I move before they disappear around the corner, knowing I have to risk it or I’ll be unable to clear the wide expanse of lawn before the next pair of guards comes forward.
As it is, I barely make it into the garden before the new guards round the side of the house.
Heart pounding, I slide between two hedges and try to slow my breathing.
My hands shake, but I clench them into fists, tightly enough to cut off circulation. Tightly enough to bruise. Tightly like I used to hold?—
Move.
I pop out of the hedges, cursing internally when the leaves rustle.
It’s not a breezy night. There isn’t a lot of sound to disguise my movements.
I don’t stop, though. Just continue moving until I reach the shadows of the fountain and gazebo. Only then do I breathe. The cameras are focused on the entrance and exit of the maze I am currently making my way through. I can take a second, catch my breath, allow my eyes to adjust to the growing darkness.
There.
Another gap in the hedges, just wide enough for me to squeeze through.
I suck in another silent breath.
