The Chateau (Chateau 1)

Bethany was still in shock.

“Just do some prep work before I run for it. I still have to get my sister too…”

“If you can make this work, you’ll have to leave her behind.”

“Why?”

“Because not everyone in that cabin is loyal to your cause. They could snitch.”

That disgusted me. “Even if that means they could be liberated?”

She nodded. “You’ll have to leave her, and if you make it…come back for her.”

I couldn’t leave my sister behind. We left together—we survived together.

“But I think it’s a bad idea, because you’ll probably get caught.”

“Do they have guards out at night?”

“I have no idea, but I would assume so. If you get caught, you’ll be the next victim of the Red Snow.”

I suddenly lost my appetite.

“And if that happens, what will your sister do then?”

I didn’t want my sister to see my lifeless body hanging there for a week. I didn’t want her to live with the memory of my murder. “I know, but I have to try. Because if I don’t try, then every woman will die here. They have drugs drop out of planes in the fucking sky. They know what they’re doing, and they’re never going to get caught by law enforcement or intelligence agencies. No one is coming for us, Bethany.”

She dropped her gaze.

“We’ll be filed as missing persons, and the police will assume we’ve been trafficked…which is brilliant. They’re completely on the wrong track. These guys did that on purpose. They have women working in the camp because men are strong enough to fight back. You know what? We’re strong enough to fight back—and I will.”

She pushed her food around with her plastic fork, giving a slight nod. “For all our sakes, I hope you’re right. I hope you can do this. I hope you can give us the freedom we all deserve.”

“I will, Bethany… I fucking will.”

After dinner was brought, I waited.

I didn’t go to sleep, even though I would be exhausted the next morning.

I clicked the pen Magnus gave me, my thumb pressing into the pad at the top and making the tip emerge. Then I hit it again. Again. The click filled my dark cabin, my eyes on the ceiling, my heart racing because of my late-night plans.

I didn’t have a clock, so I had no idea what time it was. I didn’t even have a window, so I had no way of gauging life outside my door. All I had was my hearing, but my skills could only span to the front door and the patio right outside my cabin.

I was too anxious to continue waiting, so I got out of bed and pulled on my boots. My jacket was secured. Then I stuffed a towel into the crack of the door so I could turn on the light and dismantle the pen.

Piece by piece, I took it apart, until I got to the slender rod that I could use in the door. I left the remains tucked under my sheets before I pulled out the metal shard I’d picked up when the drugs fell from the sky.

I’d never done anything like this before.

But I’d seen it in movies, and there must be some truth to it.

I stuck the pieces into the small slit in the door and tried to feel around, sticking the shard inside to imitate the placement of a key, and then I used the pen to slowly turn the knob. Every time I tried, I could barely turn the knob an inch before it slipped.

“Ugh…”

I kept going, doing the same thing over and over, not giving up even though this seemed impossible. I didn’t have the right tools like those guys in the movies. I wasn’t some mastermind. I cursed under my breath then stepped back, pissed off that a stupid door would be my undoing.

I turned back to my bed to get under the sheets.

Instead, I stopped and stared at the book on my nightstand.

The Count of Monte Cristo.

He didn’t give up. He planned his escape for years. He got out, returned with revenge, and made everyone pay.

I had to do the same.

I turned back and kept at it.

It took me thirty minutes, my hands got slippery and sweaty, so I had to remove my jacket, but I got it.

I fucking got it.

The doorknob went slack, turning with a twist of my wrist.

I stood back and stared in surprise. “Yes.” I put my jacket back on, turned off the light, and pulled the towel from underneath the door. Now my heart was racing so fast, I could barely hear anything. The pounding blood masked everything around me. I was so terrified I almost didn’t want to leave this cabin.

I was in Plato’s fucking cave.

Far more afraid of potential freedom than sterile captivity.

I took a deep breath, tried my best to control my racing heart, and then cracked the door.