Running

#Chapter82 Running

I bundle my faux pile up in my arms, checking in the new mirror that was hung in here the other day to see if my backpack is on show. Satisfied it isn't, I head to the door, take one last look around my room, and take a deep steadying breath.

It's time to do this.

I use one hand to haul it open, slide out, and head left towards the back stair down to the first floor. The one that's closest to my door and brings me out in the same narrow corridor that leads to the back exit and the laundry door. It's perfect. I don't know why I didn't click on this before and maybe this is the fates trying to make up for messing with me.

I pass a few people who are lugging carts and hoovers from room to room and keep my head down, not really noticed by them, wishing I'd worn a hoody so I could pull it up, but it's too late now. I stick on my route, turn into the stair, scale it in seconds in hyper speed and then head along the final corridor to freedom.