I wait for a few minutes until the sound of her footsteps in the hall disappears entirely, and then I get to work, stripping my bedsheets and tying them together to fashion a makeshift aerial silk out of them. In my closet, I find an additional set of sheets that I use to supplement the length, and then I secure the knots with pillowcases, praying to the gods it will hold up.

As I tie one end to the foot of the armoire, I'm very aware of all the ways this could go wrong. But I don't care. If I die trying, then at least I can say I did something.

I wrap the sheet around my leg and pull my body through the narrow gap in the window, which is a challenge in itself. Lois probably assumed I’d be crazy to try to fit through there, but that’s the benefit of being flexible. The fabric dangles beneath me as I pull it through my fingers and inch it closer to the ground below. Once I’ve done that, I use it the same way I’d use my silks at class to shimmy down. I'm not afraid of heights, and I'm accustomed to being suspended in precarious positions. But the silks I use in class are more reliable than the knotted sheets I'm currently relying on.

The first knot begins to stretch under my weight, the fabric slowly giving way. I pick up my pace, moving faster, trying to narrow the distance between myself and the ground. The second knot starts to groan too, and then abruptly the whole design gives way, dropping me in a tangled mess of sheets before my body jars against the ground. The fall knocks the wind out of me, and when I stand, my ankle hurts like hell. But I don't care. I'm one step closer to freedom. And this time, I'm determined to get the hell out of here.

I dart across the lawn, hissing in pain as I head for the wooded area behind the house. I know where the property line is now, and I feel like I have a better idea of the areas to avoid. Unlike last time, I have no intention of going near the cottages, so I take the alternative route, the one that passes through the old outbuildings Judge warned me to stay away from.

I walk for about fifteen minutes, checking over my shoulder often to be sure I'm in the clear. My heart is pounding, and I can't help feeling like I'm being watched, though I'm sure it's just paranoia. That is until I hear a twig break somewhere in the distance.

"Shit," I mutter, glancing around frantically.