I could barely breathe over the pounding of my heart. It only grew worse as the turn of the hour neared. I looked out the dark window and became aware of the strangeness of the property outside these walls, the suffocating darkness that would surround me. Would Richard bring a candle? I couldn’t bear the dark.

It occurred to me that I’d never told him why. I’d never spoken to him of the locked larder. Nor would I want to speak of my time at Hurstwell.

Then I saw with panic how low the sun had sunk—how dark the sky had grown.

It wasn’t until we headed single file toward the wards that I realized I hadn’t concocted a plan. Was it too late? I had no way to reach the lower level, and I hadn’t time to devise anything foolproof. That meant I’d fail. I always botched the performances when I skimped on practice, when the piece wasn’t memorized completely. I couldn’t ever rely on my wits.

We turned into the dim corridor on the way to the ward, that dead-end, soulless room where I’d end every day until I forced something to change.

And if I’m free . . . perhaps I can help her. I watched Bridget’s narrow back as it moved ahead of me. We were helpless here—all of us. I wasn’t any good to anyone unless I braved an escape. Right now.

Careful to keep the dull look pasted over my features, I fell toward the back of the moving herd, away from most of the nurses. As we approached a corner, I slowed more, and when they disappeared down the next corridor, I bolted to the left. I pedaled with all my might into the near darkness of a north-facing hall, hoping to find stairs or a doorway.

Anticipation thudded in my chest. Freedom was close. They hadn’t locked up the chambers for the night yet. I could still get out.

A yell, then two sets of footsteps pounded down the hall behind me, ordering me to stop. I lurched forward just as someone caught my gown, and I collapsed, the side of my face bouncing off the floor, sharp pain riding up my jaw. I trembled with fear, with desperation, as the unseen nurse hauled me to my feet, bruising the flesh of my arms with her grip.

It was Duffy. “You fool girl. How many times—”

I threw my head back and screamed.

She yanked my hair until I saw twinkling little snowflakes. “Shut up, or you’ll get worse.”

My trembling intensified. I could use this. I was desperate enough. I gave in to panic, let it seethe through me, take over my being. My body shook uncontrollably. “I’m having a spell,” I breathed. “A spell. I just want to sit down and—”