Or maybe she’d never felt safe enough to try. Not without someone to catch her.
I could force her. Drag her through. But if she panicked, if she fell, if she screamed...
“Okay.” I climbed back in. Took her hands. My palms were sweating. I wiped them on my trousers before she could feel it. “We go through the house. Servant stairs to the kitchen. Kitchen door to the alley. Two minutes.”
She nodded.
The house was dark. Uncle’s study on the far side, ground floor. If he was passed out like usual, we’d pass nowhere near him.
Third step from the top creaks. Skip it.
I guided Elspeth around. She moved well. Quiet. She’d always been good at being invisible.
Tavrin was out there. Holding on.
Left at the landing. Servant stairs behind the linen closet.
I counted doors. One. Two. Three. The closet door was stuck. I tugged. It scraped against the floor.
Loud.
We froze.
From uncle’s study: the creak of a chair.
Not passed out.
“Go,” I breathed.
Elspeth slipped through to the stairs. I followed. Pulled the door shut. Pressed my back against it.
Footsteps. Unsteady. Moving through the hallway.
A pause that lasted forever.
His bedroom door opened. Closed.
I let myself breathe.
The kitchen was empty. The back door was locked.
The key wasn’t there.
I searched. Drawer after drawer. My hands shaking now, couldn’t hide it. Elspeth stood by the door, clutching her bag.
“It’s not here.”
“He changed the locks.” Barely audible. “After you left.”
Of course. Of course he did.
Front door. Past the guard.
“Stay close.”
We moved through the kitchen. Into the hallway. The front entrance twenty feet away. I could see the door, the bolt, the dark street through the windows.
“Wren?”
