Chapter 5 - CRAWLING THROUGH THE WALLS
The air in the vents was thin and tasted of dust,
making my throat burn with every breath.
I pushed Leo ahead of me,
his tiny body wrapped in the damp cloth.
He was quiet,
as if he understood that our lives depended on his silence.
I could hear the sounds of the struggle below,
muffled and distorted by the metal walls.
The vent branched out into several directions,
a labyrinth of steel and shadows.
I had no idea where I was going,
only that I had to stay away from the nursery.
The pain in my shoulder was a dull throb,
warm blood soaking into my uniform.
I thought of Lily again,
and the way I had failed to protect her from the stairs.
“I won’t fail you,”
I whispered to the darkness,
pushing myself forward with trembling limbs.
I reached a vertical shaft,
a long drop that seemed to go down into the basement.
There was a small ladder,
rusted and cold,
clinging to the side of the wall.
I took a deep breath,
strapped Leo to my chest using my apron,
and began the descent.
Every step felt like a gamble,
the metal groaning under my weight.
I reached the bottom,
finding myself in the laundry room of the estate.
The room was empty,
but I could hear voices nearby,
the harsh tones of men searching for us.
“They’re in the basement!”
someone shouted.
I ducked behind a row of industrial washing machines,
my heart hammering.
The smell of bleach and detergent was overwhelming,
stinging my eyes.
I saw a door leading to the service tunnel,
the one used by the staff to move between the buildings.
It was my only chance.
I ran toward it,
my feet silent on the concrete floor.
I burst into the tunnel,
the air feeling cooler and fresher.
But at the end of the hall,
a figure was waiting.
It was my ex-boyfriend,
Mark,
holding a shotgun and wearing a twisted,
manic grin.
“Found you,”
he said,
his voice dripping with malice.
“And look,”
“you’ve got a new little brat already.”
I stopped,
the small pistol Lorenzo gave me gripped in my hand.
“Stay back,
Mark,”
I warned,
my finger on the trigger.
“You’re not going to hurt this one.”
He laughed,
taking a step toward me.
“You’re going to give me that baby,”
“and then I’m going to get paid.”
“You’re pathetic,”
I said,
my voice filled with a cold,
hard hate.
“You killed our daughter,”
“and now you’re working for the people who want to kill this boy.”
“Money is money,
Elena,”
he shrugged.
“Now give him here.”
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I didn't hesitate.
I raised the pistol and fired.
