The hallway is quiet. I open our door and listen. No voices, no noises of dishes. Just the house settling.
“Stay on the left side of me,” I murmur. “Keep one hand on the wall. If I stop walking, you stop.”
“I will,” Bella says. Her fingers find mine; her grip is firm, but not panicked. Her trust in me is humbling. She's been through so much, too much for such a young age, and yet she still trusts me to lead the way and keep her safe. Sometimes, even I don't trust me.
We pass through the house, as silent as ghosts. My thumb finds the worn notch on the wall, leading to a hidden corridor used by servants. I shift it to the right; the panel shifts. A cooler breath of air touches our faces. We slip into the service passage and ease the panel back into place. The stone here takes sound and k
