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Vanessa’s hideout.

A little white moth flutters down from the ceiling and goes inside.

Cold air brushes my skin, coming from the narrow opening in the nearly sealed-up wall. Hope catches in my throat. I wedge myself into the hole sideways, scraping my breasts against the bricks sticking out.

The lights snap back on at their full brightness.

My abductor sees me.

I tumble through the opening just before his hand reaches me, fingers brushing nothing but air. His shoulders are too broad to fit through.

There’s no time to stop moving.

I switch on my phone’s light and sweep it around the room. It’s a tomb for Vanessa’s thoughts, the stories she stepped into as an escape. Books line the walls in uneven towers. Papers spill from boxes. Notebooks are stacked high.

And in the corner, another hatch waits overhead.

The man slams his shoulder against the sealed wall. Old mortar powders between the bricks, and sediment rains down.

“He’s gonna make it more painful the longer you make him wait,” he calls out.

The hatch has no ladder. I can’t reach it.

I spin, searching for anything I can stand on until I spot a stool wedged among the stacks of books.

He rams the brick wall again. Cracks spread.

As I yank the stool free, a stack of books topples with soft thuds. The Scarlet Letter hits the floor, an envelope slipping from between its pages and skidding against my shoe.

More of the wall crumbles away.

I bend just long enough to snatch it up. Vanessa Crotavere. Her name in the corner catches my eye before I shove the letter into my back pocket.

The man backs up and charges the wall again with a grunt. One brick topples to the floor.

“You stupid bitch.”

I climb onto the stool. It wobbles under me as I stretch for the hatch, fingers barely catching the edge.

Every ounce of my strength presses against the little door. It doesn’t budge. Grass and roots have grown over it, trying to keep the world out.

My palms press harder, arms trembling with effort as I force my weight forward. The stool rocks under my shaky legs, but I have to push off my toes.

The hatch gives.

Sunlight pours in, breaking through the roots.

I squint and haul myself up just as the wall behind me collapses. The man catches his balance and rushes towards me as I scramble to get through.

His hand clamps around my ankle. I scream and kick wildly until my shoe connects with his skull.

He curses when his grip releases.

I pull myself up onto the ground and look back down through the hole. He’s sprawled on the floor with the broken stool next to him.

“You’re gonna die, bitch,” he shouts from below.

I slam the hatch shut over him.