didn’t acknowledge what I said.
“Is that where I’m going? To the bell?”
After a long stretch of silence, he gave a nod.
“Oh my god…” My hands immediately covered my face, and I felt the tears well in my eyes. That bell had kept me going. It’d been calling me home. It’d been the light in the darkness. “Is it a church?”
“A chateau.”
“So, when I get there, I just—”
“You wait for me. I’ll be there a few days afterward.”
“You’re…you’re joining me?”
“We’re far away from Paris, and that’s where you want to go, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re going to need help getting there.”
“I can’t just ask someone?”
He shook his head. “The chateau is still in the middle of nowhere.”
“Then how does the bell ring?”
“A timer.”
“How do you know so much about this—”
“Because it’s mine.” He looked slightly irritated by all the questions. “We need to focus on getting there, not what we’ll do once we do.”
“Are you fleeing the camp too?”
“No. That’s where I’ll go when I’m scheduled to leave.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I felt guilty that I would be escaping while the others didn’t. I feel terrible I couldn’t even tell Bethany that I was leaving, just in case she said something to someone she shouldn’t.
“I’ll tie up a horse in the forest with everything you need.”
“How will you do that?”
He looked annoyed again. “Let me worry about it. After dinner that night, you’ll take the horse and run. You’ll need some daylight to see where you’re going to get past the river. Without it, you’ll never make it across. But once you get past that, you should be able to make it in the darkness. You made it as far as you did the first time, so this shouldn’t be hard for you.”
For the first time in my life, I was speechless. All I could do was stare at this man who had risked his own neck for me countless times. He was rough around the edges, but good underneath. He rarely had nice things to say, rarely issued a compliment, but his soul was pure. He had a conscience, unlike everyone else in that place. “I don’t know how to thank you…for everything.” If the folklore was true, I would be the only woman to escape this camp in years, and it wasn’t happening because I had plotted a master plan that got me free. It was because a man cared enough to do the right thing.
He dropped his gaze. “You can thank me by making sure you get across that river.”
Days passed.
The sun was out, and the snow melted.
I had no idea what the date was, but I suspected it was the end of January, maybe February. Perhaps spring was coming early. Or maybe it was just a long pause before another storm.
But I knew my time here was drawing to an end.
Any day…it would happen.
Without a mirror, I wasn’t unaware of the condition of my back, but I felt better. I didn’t have pain, and I didn’t spot any more drops of blood. The gauze seemed unnecessary, so I removed it.
I’d been eating everything on my plate, making sure I got plenty of sleep, remaining mentally prepared for the undertaking I was about to make. But my heart constantly beat harder than it should, because I was nervous. If I was caught…that would be it. I was a cat with nine lives, and I’d already blown through the first eight.
I sat up in bed and leaned against the wall with the Count of Monte Cristo in my hands. I’d read this story a dozen times before, but I read it again because it took on new meaning.
Because I would make it out of there.
The door opened, and Magnus walked inside with my evening tray. The woman never delivered the food anymore, as if he didn’t want anyone to interact with me besides himself. His hood was pushed down, and he carried the tray to the nightstand. Then he grabbed his chair and took a seat.
I closed the book and set it to the side as I scooted to the edge of the bed.
He glanced at the book, the cover visible. “Tomorrow.”
Every day felt like the day it could happen—but now today was that day.
“The horse will be in the forest behind your cabin. I’ll leave you a flashlight so you can find her. A bag will be tied to her saddle with everything you need inside.”
I dropped my gaze for a moment and looked at my hands, my