Chapter 11: The Breakout
Friday night arrived with a dense, clinging autumn fog that rolled across the manicured lawns of St. Jude’s, swallowing the campus streetlamps in a soft, hazy glow. It was 11:45 PM. The dormitory was dead silent, save for the rhythmic, heavy snoring of the proctor sleeping in the ground-floor monitoring room near the main entrance.
Clara and Maya stood fully dressed in dark clothing beside their respective beds. Clara checked the zipper of her backpack one last time, ensuring the flashlight, a set of heavy-duty lock picks Maya had managed to order online through an anonymous drop-ship service, and her mother’s journal were securely stowed away.
“Ready?” Maya whispered, slipping a dark woolen cap over her curly hair.
“Ready,” Clara nodded, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
They unlocked their room door with infinite care, easing it open just enough to peer out into the carpeted hallway. The corridor was empty, bathed in the dim, amber glow of emergency exit signs. Moving like ghosts, they tiptoed down the hallway toward the side service exit—a heavy metal fire door that Maya had subtly jammed with a small plastic wedge earlier that evening during afternoon study hall.
The door pushed open with barely a whisper of sound, releasing them into the chilly night air behind Dormitory B. Without wasting a second, they sprinted across the damp lawn toward the north perimeter fence where a thick grove of overgrown oak trees provided natural cover from the security cameras mounted along the main building.
Reaching the chain-link fence, Maya produced a pair of heavy wire cutters from her jacket pocket, handing them to Clara with a grin. “You take the top wire; I’ve got the bottom.”
Working with practiced efficiency born from desperation, they snipped a sufficiently wide opening in the rusted fencing just large enough to squeeze through. Beyond the fence lay a narrow county access road where a beat-up blue hatchback with its headlights turned off was idling quietly in the shadows.
The passenger door swung open, and a young man with messy blonde hair and a leather jacket leaned out, grinning through the window. “Took you long enough, freshman. Get in before the campus security patrol makes their midnight sweep.”
Clara and Maya scrambled into the backseat of the hatchback, pulling the doors shut just as the vehicle lurched forward into the fog.
May you like
“Clara, right?” the driver looked back through the rearview mirror, flashing a reassuring smile that bore a striking, comforting resemblance to Maya’s adventurous spirit. “Maya’s told me all about your charming step-aunt. Don't worry—we’ll have you back at her house before she even finishes her morning coffee, and hopefully, with enough evidence to put her away for a very long time.”
As the car accelerated down the dark highway heading southwest toward home, Clara stared out the rain-streaked window into the rushing darkness. There was no turning back now. The mission had begun, and the final confrontation with Helen was rapidly approaching.
