It’s time.
Oh fuck. I needed to leave. Now.
I didn’t bother cleaning up in the studio, which felt like sacrilege. No one ever visited down here anyway, and I could guarantee no one cared about losing a few brushes. Instead, I headed down the hallway and up the stairs, making sure to keep my steps slow and measured, even though my insides jittered like I’d mainlined an entire carafe of coffee. The silence hummed around me, but I kept my focus forward, passing the familiar rooms as I headed to the room that had become mine during my time here.
One that would fast become a memory.
My gut churned.
I was leaving.
I was escaping the Triton family, my own family, maybe even Peregrine City.
But I was also leaving Ursuline.
My chest spasmed, and pain sliced through me. The idea of going without them wounded me in a way that would scar. In a way I’d carry with me every waking moment. They’d somehow emblazoned themself on my soul. I didn’t know when I’d fallen for them, but between midnight swims and diner trips, I had.
They owned a piece of my heart.
I reached my room and closed the door behind me as I grabbed the black bag I’d packed and left under the bed. As I slipped the straps over my shoulder, the weight of it settled heavily inside me.
I trusted Ursuline had let Jason know. I trusted they were sending me off to a better future.
However, they would remain in this hell.
I adjusted the bag on my shoulder as I stepped to the door. From here on out, I needed to be quick, and I needed to walk through these halls unseen. If the staff spotted me, my bulky bag could raise questions or sound alarms. If Arielle wandered through the halls, I’d be fucked before I even stepped foot out the door.
My hand rested on the doorknob, and I paused, staring around the room I had as little attachment to as the one I’d grown up in. For me, home hadn’t been a refuge but the spaces I carved for myself around safe people.
I’d never experienced the idea of a home or felt the comfort deep in my bones the way I did around Ursuline.
Except now I was walking away. The sense of guilt tugged at my gut, sent my stomach roiling.
However, if I stayed, we’d not just be trapped in hiding, in agony, but Triton would use my family’s connections for harm.
I opened the door and stepped into the hall. Ever since Ursuline had given me the instructions, I’d practiced the trek from here to the back entrance. I’d figured out the best pathway there, the one to avoid passing by most of the main areas. The one that bypassed the staff lounge space too. Oftentimes, they were the only people in this manor besides me, but ever since Jacques vanished, everyone who had been friendly before had grown colder.
Maybe I was at fault for his disappearance. If he hadn’t been talking to me, if Arielle hadn’t overheard…
I tightened my grip on the strap at my shoulder and slowed to peer around the first corner.
Clear.
I sucked in a breath and headed down the corridor. Instead of heading to the main staircases, I detoured to a smaller one that was used by the staff to navigate around with laundry, cleaning equipment, or whatever else they were involved in for the upkeep of this massive mansion. Even as I reached the stairwell, the idea still hadn’t settled in that I wasn’t going to be stuck under the constraints of a rich family. Or any rich family. My actions had been dictated by the society I’d been born into my whole life.
But I’d be free.
Except Ursuline wouldn’t.
I kept my steps quiet as I descended the stairwell, one that would bring me close to the exit. Tension threaded through the air with my every move forward. Because the stakes at this point weren’t disappointment or a slap on the wrist.
No, I’d seen the cruelty in Frederick’s eyes. I was aware of what he was capable of, and betraying him would have consequences.
Shame flushed through me. How had I gotten myself into this situation in the first place? Maybe if I’d trusted Jason to be able to take care of himself, if I’d contacted him to run, I could’ve avoided all this.
Yet then I would never have met Ursuline.
And I couldn’t regret a second of our time together.
