Chapter 9: The Leap
The two security guards moved forward in unison, their heavy boots thudding rhythmically against the Persian rug. Clara didn't wait for them to close the distance. With a swift, desperate motion, she turned and sprinted toward the far end of the archive room, where a tall, stained-glass casement window overlooked the estate's overgrown western courtyard.
"Stop her!" Eleanor’s voice snapped, devoid of panic but laced with sharp command.
Clara threw her weight against the antique wooden window latch. It rusted and stiffened with age, refusing to budge on the first shove. Behind her, heavy footsteps closed in rapidly. A large hand grazed the shoulder of her grey maid uniform, fingers catching the fabric just as she threw her entire body weight against the glass.
With a loud, splintering crash, the old window latch gave way. The casement flew outward, shattering the lower panes of stained glass into a sparkling cascade of red and blue shards that rained down onto the stone courtyard below.
Without pausing to think about the height or the danger, Clara scrambled over the wooden sill. The cool night air hit her face like a physical blow. She dropped awkwardly onto the damp cobblestones of the courtyard, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain up her ankles and through her spine. She bit back a cry, scrambled to her feet, and sprinted blindly toward the dense tree line bordering the Vanderbilt estate.
Behind her, shouts echoed from the shattered window. "Get the perimeter lights on! Do not let her reach the service road!"
Floodlights suddenly blazed to life along the mansion's perimeter wall, turning the dark lawns into a harsh, glaring stage. Clara pushed herself harder, her chest burning with every ragged breath. Her low bun came undone, and her blonde hair streamed wildly behind her as she plunged into the thick, embracing shadows of the surrounding pine forest.
Brambles tore at the fabric of her apron and scratched her skin, but she did not slow down. She clutched the folded blueprint tightly in her hand like a lifeline. Behind her, the sharp barking of guard dogs pierced the night air, echoing through the trees. They had released the hounds.
Clara stumbled over an exposed tree root, crashing hard onto the damp forest floor. A sharp pain flared in her left knee, but she forced herself back up, ignoring the warmth of fresh blood soaking through her grey stockings. She could hear the heavy splashing of the dogs closing in, their rapid panting a terrifying metronome driving her forward.
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Through the thick trunks of the pine trees, she finally caught sight of the chain-link perimeter fence topped with barbed wire. It was at least ten feet high, glowing faintly under the harsh amber hue of an external security lamp. It was her only way out.
Reaching the fence, Clara didn't hesitate. She jammed her fingers into the diamond-shaped wire mesh, using her boots to find purchase against the metal links, and scrambled upward with desperate, clawing movements. Below her, the dark shapes of two large German shepherds burst out of the brush, barking furiously and slamming their paws against the base of the fence.
