Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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 breathing ragged because it was really happening. Freedom was so close, but I was also terrified because I still had to go back out there…and survive. The darkness, the cold, the fear of the guards behind me…it was traumatizing.
“Ride hard. Don’t look back.” He pulled out a paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “Here’s the map.” It wasn’t a professional one created with a computer. It was hand-drawn, showing the camp, the forest, the path to the river, and then beyond. He turned it over and showed me the individual steps I could take to figure it out. “Keep the forest on your right. As long as you do that, you’ll hit the river. When you cross it, the chateau is farther to the left, so you’ll have to look at these landmarks to help you.”
I took the paper from him, studying his notes to see if I had any questions.
It was detailed enough that I didn’t have any. “Will I have a gun?”
He shook his head. “The only way to retrieve those is with a code, so if they notice it’s missing, they’ll know I took it. I didn’t give you any weapons—because that would be too obvious. But you shouldn’t need them because all you have to do is get there as quickly as possible. If they did catch you, a weapon wouldn’t help you.”
Probably not.
I folded the paper and stuffed it into my pocket.
Now we sat together in silence because there was nothing left to say. A part of me thought he would have a change of heart because everyone would assume he’d orchestrated my escape. But he didn’t.
I stared at him, looking at a face I would never forget, even if I was fortunate enough to grow old. My memory of my young life would fade, but the memory of this man never would. I shouldn’t regard him as a hero for saving me, because he worked there in the first place. But he was definitely my hero.
A few minutes passed before he spoke again. “I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart.” His brown eyes drilled into mine with invisible force, burning into me, digging deep past my eyes and further down into my soul.