//CLARA//
The blood drained from my face so fast I felt lightheaded. For a second, the air in the cramped, freezing passageway seed to vanish.
My mind, already frayed from days of isolation, imdiately began to construct horrors.
A cold, jagged hollow opened up in my chest. I reached up, my fingers clenching the gold ring hanging from my neck until the tal bit into my skin.
"He’s coming back, Gary." I shake my head, refusing to believe anything my mind conjured. "He’s coming back. He promised ."
Gary looked at but didn’t argue. He couldn’t.
The kitchen fell silent. Hattie’s voice cut through the darkness like a blunt knife.
"Who’s Elias?"
Gary rubbed his temples with two fingers. The moonlight through the window caught his hair.
"Hmm. ."
Hattie’s brow furrowed deeper, her small fra rigid with confusion. "And who’s Gary?"
"Also ."
Hattie blinked. "I don’t understand."
"For God’s sake," I interrupted, clearing my mind and tried to steel myself despite the tremor wracking my nerves.
"Gary was the na I called him when we were children. We grew up together on my mother’s estate. His real na is Elias Russell."
Hattie’s eyes widened, understanding finally dawning.
"Oh. Right. Makes sense."
She nodded once, twice, then froze. Her gaze snapped toward the kitchen door, toward the stairs beyond.
"Miss Eleanor, you’re not supposed to be out of your room. And—"
As if on cue, the pounding of boots echoed from upstairs. Orders barked in voices I didn’t recognize, echoing through the floorboards above our heads.
"Search every room. Miss Cornelia wants her found."
"—she couldn’t have just vanished—"
"—check the windows, the terrace—"
I cursed under my breath.
"We need to get out of here. Now. I need to send word to Casimir. But we’re trapped."
Hattie stepped forward, her small hands clasped tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her eyes darted to the ceiling, to the sound of boots dispersing through the mansion’s upper floors.
"I know a way."
Hattie moved before I could finish, her hand closing around my wrist. "Follow ."
She moved to the pantry, her fingers finding the loose brick behind the flour sacks with ease. The passage beyond gaped like a mouth, cold and damp and slling of earth and old stone.
"Inside," she whispered, pushing us into the dark.
"Hattie," I breathed, hearing my voice bounce off the stone. "How do you know about this place?"
"I’ve been a servant in this house since I was twelve, miss. You learn things. Ways to move without being seen."
I shivered imdiately. My nightdress was silk, my robe genuine fur, but neither was ant for this. The cold bit through the fabric like teeth, found the spaces between my ribs, the hollow of my throat.
Hattie noticed. Her brow furrowed as she took in my state of undress, the way my arms had wrapped themselves around my torso without my permission.
"Miss Eleanor, you’re barely dressed. You’ll freeze."
Before I could answer, she slipped past , back into the kitchen proper. The brick was still wide open, but we were hidden under the pitch black.
Gary and I pressed ourselves into the corner, the rough stone scraping my shoulder.
Footsteps approached.
"Hattie?" The guard’s voice was rough, suspicious.
I stopped breathing. My hand found Gary’s in the darkness, gripped hard enough to hurt.
"I’m here," Hattie replied, and her tone was transford into a casual, almost bored, the voice of a servant interrupted at her duties.
"You were outside." The guard’s voice hardened. "Seen anything strange? One of the stable boys said they saw soone going over the walls."
"I was collecting pebbles," Hattie said easily. "We were playing jackstones. It’s too cold to do much else, and the mistress doesn’t give us proper ti for ourselves."
The guard grunted. I heard the shift of his weight, the creak of leather.
"If you see anything, you report it. Imdiately."
"Of course, sir."
The boots retreated. I counted to twenty in my head, my heart hamring against my ribs like sothing trying to escape.
With a slight twist of her body, she stares at the concealed portion of the wall before she disappeared into the narrow stairs.
I leaned my head back against the stone and looked at Gary. Even in the dark, I could see him shivering.
"Okay, seriously?" I whispered, the adrenaline making punchy. "I am beyond pissed. Why do you get the psychic spoilers?"
Gary blinked at , looking confused. "What?"
"The dreams, Gary. The mory downloads from Elias. I’m the one who’s been living in the trenches of this hellscape. I’m the one who dealt through worst. And yet, you’re the one getting the plot points? That’s total favoritism from the universe. I haven’t seen Eleanor in my dreams once. Not a single hint. No maps, no hey Clara, look under the floorboards. I’m over here winging it with a letter opener while you’re getting the director’s cut of Elias’s life."
Gary only shrugged, his silhouette shifting in the gloom.
"Trust , Clara, I’d trade you. It’s like soone is scrubbing the inside of my skull with steel wool. It’s invasive. It’s... gross."
"I don’t care if it’s gross," I snapped, though I reached out and squeezed his arm. "It’s the ultimate favoritism."
He was quiet for a mont, then I felt him shrug.
"Maybe she likes more."
"Or maybe," I said, "your brain is already scrambled from too much internet."
Gary opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. "Okay, that’s fair."
Hattie returned a mont later, clutching a bundle of dark wool and thick, scratchy fur. She thrust it at .
"Change your clothes, miss. I apologize it wasn’t made of the finest wool, but it can conceal your identity and give you warmth."
Gary imdiately turned his back, staring into the dark corner of the passage to give us a bit of privacy. I stripped off the silk, my skin puckering instantly in the draft. With Hattie’s help, I pulled on a heavy, nondescript charcoal dress. It was scratchy and slled of cedar, but the warmth was imdiate.
"Done," I said.
"So," Gary asked, turning back once I’d fastened the cloak. "What’s the plan?"
"We get out of here," I said, and my voice sounded different in these clothes, rougher, more certain. "We find the ledger. Where did you hide it?"
"The safest place I knew. The place nobody looks because they’re too busy looking up." A pause. "Or the mories of—"
He stopped, shook his head.
"It doesn’t matter. I know where it is. But we need to get clear of the estate first."
I was skeptical, but the muffled shouts of the panicking guards upstairs left no choice. Going back was a death sentence.
The boots upstairs were still moving room by room. I thought of my own bed. I’d left it rumpled and empty, the window I’d opened to the terrace.
"I am coming too," Hattie said, her chin lifting.
I frowned and shook my head though she couldn’t see it.
"No, Hattie. You stay here. Don’t get yourself involved in this. It’s dangerous."
"I know," Hattie whispered, her eyes shining in the dark. "But wherever you go, miss, I go. I’m not staying in this house while it burns."
I opened my mouth to argue, to order her, to protect her from her own loyalty. But I heard the truth in her words, the sa truth I’d heard in Casimir’s voice when he’d promised to ruin himself for my sake. So bonds, once forged, could not be broken by reason or command.
I looked at Gary. He nodded once.
"Fine," I breathed. "But stay close. And do exactly as I say. Now we can’t go through the gates. How do we get out?"
"The delivery carriages," Hattie whispered. "The midnight coal and supply run. They leave through the service gate every night. If we can hitch a ride on the back of one, we can make it outside the city by dawn."
I nodded, ntally mapping our way out.
We moved through the passage, Hattie leading with steps she’d clearly morized. The cold seeped through my new clothes, but it was bearable now.
The passage ended at a narrow door, rusted hinges screaming as Hattie pushed it open. Moonlight flooded in, showing the grounds I’d only ever seen from above, the kitchen gardens buried in snow, the path to the stables, the gate beyond where freedom waited.
We crept out, single file, our breath misting in the frigid air. The estate was eerily quiet, the guards’ patrols concentrated inside now, searching for a woman who was already behind them.
The stables lood ahead, dark and slling of hay and horse and the particular warmth of living things in winter. Beyond them, I could see the shape of a carriage, boxy and practical, the kind used for deliveries before the household woke.
"There," Hattie breathed, pointing. "It leaves at dawn for the city markets."
I nodded, my mind racing. If we could hide in the back, we could be miles away before anyone thought to check.
We were halfway across the open ground when the sound ca. Voices, from the direction of the main house.
"Run," I said. And we ran.
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