ZARIA
Istare out the window in my room, and I watch the guard pass below.
I move.
The moment my door closes behind me, I am already counting.
One.
Two.
Three.
My heart beats hard in my chest.
Every second counts now.
When I first got here, all that time spent in my room, sometimes for days at a time, alone, made me look out the windows. And when I got bored, I would do things to pass the time. Like counting how long the guards took to pass each window, how often they stopped to talk, which ones were distracted and which ones never were. Things like that.
Coming and going from places that were protected were things I got good at in the Order. It was always on my mind. Always watching exits. Always cataloging routines. Always asking myself how long it would take to disappear if I had to.
I reach the top of the stairs and pause, listening.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
I hurry down the stairs, keeping my steps light, my hand sliding along the banister for balance. I pass the living room without looking in. I do not let myself hesitate.
I discovered a weakness in one of the walls that run around the Killaney estate.
I double-checked it the night Callum took me out to the pool. The wall dips down, not by much, but just enough to matter.
There is a stone bench set against it, decorative and forgotten, half hidden by ivy. I measured it with my eyes. Bench height, wall height, and distance to the treeline.
I can for sure jump up on the bench and clear the wall and disappear into the treeline. From there, wave down a taxi or something. I don't know. I'll figure it out.
I pass the kitchen and leave out the back door.
The morning air hits my face, cool and sharp.
I stop just outside the door and count again, waiting for the guards to turn and walk back.
My hands shake as I press them against my thighs.
One. Two. Three.
Cormac's voice plays in my head.We have Callum's mother.
Four. Five. Six.
The guard's footsteps fade around the corner.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
I suck in a breath.
