At eleven forty-five, I get up to dress in my running clothes without turning on the light. After I slip on my sneakers, I look out the window, expecting some sign that Jackson is waiting. But of course he wouldn’t be sitting there with his headlights on.
I go to my door and stick my head out into the hallway. For a moment, I’m all alone. But then Sydney’s head pokes out from her doorway. In quick succession Annalise, Marcella, and Brynn all appear. We turn to the Guardian’s door, waiting. When there’s no movement, we slip outside our rooms, each of us in our running clothes with backpacks.
We’re nervous—glassy-eyed and jerky in our movements. We need to get the key for the kitchen door. Marcella motions us forward, leading the way. We follow closely behind her, checking around corners and in alcoves, making sure no one sees us as we descend the staircase toward the kitchen. The hallway is bleak with a flickering light on the wall.
The girls and I hold on to each other’s arms as we make our way into the dark kitchen. Normally, light would filter in through the window over the sink, but it’s pitch-black outside.
Marcella feels her way along the counter and gets to the drawer near the pantry. She quietly eases it open and begins to run her hand through it, looking for the key. She stiffens before darting over to the fridge, opening it to cast light into the room. I see a small plate of cookies next to the teakettle. An open box of tea.
Marcella begins going through the drawer again, her moves more frantic.
“What’s wrong?” Brynn asks. She looks around at us concerned. “Marcella, what’s wrong?”
“It’s not here,” Marcella whispers back. “There’s no gold key.”
“What?” Brynn asks, racing over to her. She begins to dig through the drawer, items rattling around. “No, it has to be.”
“There’s only this,” Marcella says, holding up the small silver key. The one that unlocks the lab in the basement.
My heart stops with the realization. “It was Leandra,” I whisper. “She... She took the other key so we couldn’t escape.”
The girls turn to me, horrified. “Why did she leave this one, then?” Marcella asks.
I don’t have the answer, and we don’t have time to figure out her reasoning. Every second we’re not in our rooms is another second we’re in danger.
We can’t get out.
“Come on,” Sydney says, grabbing my sleeve and pulling me toward the stairs to our rooms. “You have to call Jackson back,” she says. Marcella, Brynn, and Annalise follow—all of us growing reckless in our impatience. The fear that we’ll miss our chance for escape.
We get upstairs, keeping our eyes on Guardian Bose’s door while we hurry toward my room.
“Make sure he’s almost here,” Sydney whispers. “And tell him to bring a crowbar if he has to,” she adds in a shaky voice. The idea that we’re really trapped at the academy when we thought we had a way out makes us desperate. Irrational.
I still don’t know how we’ll get beyond the fence, but first we have to get outside. I dash over to my bed, dropping my backpack before taking the phone out of my pillowcase. I dial Jackson’s number.
“Hey,” I whisper the second he picks up. “The kitchen door is locked. We’ll need another way.”
The girls shift impatiently, motioning for me to hurry.
“I’m about fifteen minutes out,” Jackson says. I can hear that he’s in the car. “I’m coming to get you. Q is with me and—”
I open my mouth to tell him we can’t get out the door when I hear a shout at the end of the hall.“Girls!”Guardian Bose roars.
It’s like the floor drops out from under me. The phone falls from my hands, and I scramble for it, clicking it off and barely getting it under my pillow before the Guardian appears in the doorway, angry that we’re up past curfew.
“What the hell is going on?” he demands. But then his eyes travel over us, noting our clothing, our backpacks. His expression grows darker, his mouth flinches.
He grabs Annalise violently by her backpack strap, lifting her to her tiptoes. She cries out and I shout for him to let her go.
Guardian Bose turns his hatred on me and pushes Annalise away, knocking her into the wall. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asks. And itishatred in his eyes—possessiveness that’s turned to resentment. To cruelty. He’d rather see us dead than gone.
Still, I debate lying, making some excuse in hopes of a reprieve. But the truth is, this was our only chance of escape. We won’t get out. Not now. He sees us with our backpacks. With our sneakers on.
“We’re leaving you,” I say, fear shaking my voice. “We’re leaving you, and we’re never coming back.” Even as I say the words, I know how impossible they are. But it feels good to say them nonetheless.
For a moment, Guardian Bose is shocked, but then he crosses his arms over his chest. He has complete control, even now.
“Without a goodbye kiss?” he asks, and laughs to himself.
