Rebecca
We reach the laundry room, and I ease the door open, checking for movement outside. The yard is clear, the tree line perhaps thirty yards away. Beyond that lies the forest.
I shift Anya to my other hip and reach for the door handle. This is it. Once we step outside, there’s no turning back. If we’re caught now, Mikhail won’t simply punish us, he’ll kill me. If we make it…if we make it, we’ll be free.
I push the door open, and cool, damp air rushes in—smelling of earth and rain and possibility. My lungs burn from the smoke, each breath scraping like sandpaper against my throat. The forest looms around us, a maze of shadows and sunlight dappling through the canopy.
The cold air bites at my wet clothes, sending shivers racing down my spine. The sprinklers have left us all damp, b
