Out of the Ashes

The midnight flight

I steered clear of my apartment, knowing Henry would be lying in wait. I spent the afternoon shadowing near the Carter Estate's rear gate, and when the guards were distracted by a delivery van at 6:00 PM, I slipped through the laundry chute.

Once inside, I raced to my locker to grab my papers and voucher. I ditched my phone in a laundry bin headed across town to throw them off my trail, but as I made for the kitchen, the heavy thud of approaching boots stopped me dead.

"Check the locker rooms," a guard barked.

"Mr. Carter wants a headcount."

The kitchen was blocked. I dove into the service elevator, hit the main floor, and stepped out into the dark corridor. Footsteps sounded ahead. Sebastian was walking straight toward me.

Desperate, I lunged into the nearest room to my left, the mansion library, and clicked the door shut just as his shadow passed the glass. Before I could move toward the terrace, the brass handle rattled. He was coming in.

I threw myself behind the heavy velvet drapes of the French doors, pressing flat against the freezing glass.

The door swung open. Through the slit in the fabric, I watched Sebastian toss his phone onto the desk and pour a drink. His phone buzzed on speaker.

"Speak," Sebastian commanded.

"Sir, Isabella didn't check in," Thomas's voice echoed.

"Her phone is pinging near the transit terminal."

Sebastian’s knuckles turned white around his glass.

"She's playing games. Expand the perimeter, Thomas. Check every car leaving the estate and bring her straight to my quarters."

The line went dead. Sebastian turned his back to look at some documents.

My only window.

I gripped the brass latch behind my back, turning it millimeter by millimeter.

Click.

Sebastian stopped reading. He tilted his head toward the curtains. I choked back a sob, paralyzing myself in the dark. After three agonizing seconds, he sighed and sat at his desk.

I didn't hesitate. I slipped through the door into the torrential rain, pulling it shut behind me. I sprinted through the mud, using the rose hedges to duck the security cameras. Reaching the side staff entrance near the greenhouses, I slipped back inside to find a dry jacket.

The door swung open, and the lights snapped on.

Mrs. Gable, the head matron, stood there with her arms crossed. She had been like a mother to me since I started here, but right now, her face was set in stern lines.

"Isabella," she whispered sharply, closing the door behind her.

"What are you doing? The whole estate is turned upside down looking for you. Sebastian is furious."

"Mrs. Gable, please," I sobbed, the adrenaline finally breaking me. "I can't stay here. I have to leave New York tonight."

She stepped closer, her eyes softening as she looked at my trembling hands and the raw panic in my eyes. She let out a long, heavy sigh.

"I know about the baby, Isabella. I saw you running to the bathroom earlier. A woman who has raised four children knows a morning sickness wave when she sees one."

My breath hitched. "You know?"

"Yes. And you need to tell me who did this to you so I can try to help you," she demanded gently.

I looked at the door, then back at her, my voice barely a whisper.

"It's Sebastian's."

Mrs. Gable froze. The color completely drained from her face, her eyes widening in pure shock.

"Mr. Carter? Oh dear, my child... if he finds out, he will never let you leave this place. He will take that child and lock you away.”

"He doesn't know," I panicked, gripping her forearms.

"And he can't know. Please, Mrs. Gable. My boyfriend took all my cash. I have nothing but this payroll voucher, and the bus station won't cash it without a manager's signature."

Mrs. Gable’s shock instantly transformed into fierce determination. She grabbed my hand, pulling me into the back pantry.

"Listen to me carefully. Forget the bus terminal. Sebastian's men will watch the transit hubs by midnight."

She reached into her apron pocket, pulling out a thick envelope of cash and a set of keys.

"This is the emergency petty cash for the estate groceries, and these are the keys to the old laundry van parked by the west gate. The guards never check it because it's scheduled for a maintenance run tomorrow morning."

"I can't take your money," I whispered.

"Take it for the baby," she ordered, shoving the envelope into my hands.

"Drive south. Don't stop until you cross the state line. Go to Philadelphia, abandon the van in a public lot, and buy a ticket to somewhere he would never look. Go, Isabella. Now!"

She shoved a dry rain poncho over my shoulders and opened the back door.

I looked at her, tears blurring my vision.

"Thank you."

"Run," she whispered.

I bolted into the dark, sprinting toward the west gate. I found the rusted white laundry van, threw myself into the driver's seat, and cranked the engine. It sputtered to life. I jammed it into drive and rolled past the automated western gate just before the estate's main alarms began to blare in the distance.

To truly be free, Isabella Simmons had to die tonight. Under the cover of a ferocious rainstorm, I pulled the van onto the muddy shoulder of a bridge over the raging Hudson River to stage my own death. I snapped my easily recognizable pink staff umbrella against the guardrail, scattered the contents of my purse along the embankment, and dropped my silver nameplate right at the edge of the steep drop-off. To anyone investigating, it would look like I had accidentally slipped into the dark, brutal current and been swept away forever.

After that, I hit the open highway, the blinding rain slamming against the windshield as the New York skyline faded into the rearview mirror.

Shaking violently, I steered with one hand and used the other to press the cash envelope tightly against my stomach. I was broke, I was a fugitive, and I was entirely alone. But I had my secret, I had my life, and I had my freedom.

I pulled out a scrap of paper and wrote a quick message to mail to my mother at the next stop:

Leaving NY tonight. Do not look for me. Keep your head down. I will send for you the moment I am safe.

As the miles stretched between me and Sebastian Carter, a new, fierce heat ignited inside my chest. The game had officially changed. I was going to survive, and I was going to build a world out of the ashes they left me with.