On the ninth night in the north wing dungeon area, the most brutal forest rain since the start of autumn poured down over the northern mountain range. Thunder rumbled in distant, heavy rolls, shaking even the solid granite walls of the Gothic castle. Rain tapped relentlessly against the dark iron bars of the window, bringing with it a bone-chilling draft that cut straight through the narrow, dark cell.
Maya lay on the single iron bed, staring up at the damp grey stone ceiling with wide eyes. Her thin grey silk dress did little to keep her exhausted body warm, but the fire of survival inside her had never burned so fiercely.
Out of a habit forged through nights of quiet humiliation, she took a deep breath, pressed her dry, cracked lips together, and began to whisper.
"The sun rises bright... the birds fly away... over the endless hills..."
Her tiny, crystal-clear singing—fragile as a cicada’s call in late winter—drifted softly above the drumming rain outside. She sang to drown out the raw ache in her body. She sang to remind herself that she was Maya—a teacher, a free human being—not some captive doll.
Suddenly, a faint sound came from the other side of the heavy, steel-plated, chain-bound wooden door.
Rustle...
It was tiny and light, like the padding of a small cat. Maya stopped singing, freezing instantly. Her heart leaped straight into her throat. Was it Travis? Or one of the servants making rounds?
"Miss... Miss Maya? Are you in there?"
A tiny, hesitating voice quavered through the crack in the weathered wood.
Maya jolted, nearly slipping off the iron bed. Dragging her aching legs, she rushed to the door and pressed her face against the narrow opening.
"Mark?! Is that you, Mark?!"
"Yeah, it’s me, Miss Maya!" Mark whispered urgently on the other side. "I went to look for my teddy bear in the north hallway... and I heard you singing. The song you taught me when we made paper boats..."
Tears rushed to Maya’s eyes. In this vast, gloomy castle, a five-year-old child had followed her quiet song to find his way to this dark corner.
"Mark, why are you down here? It’s dangerous—go back to your room before your dad sees you!" Maya whispered back, her chest tight with terror for his safety.
"No way! I’m not going back!" Mark choked out, his voice seeping through the gap. "I haven't seen you in days... Dad told me you went away and didn't want to teach me anymore... But I know he lied! He locked you up in here, didn't he? Why'd he do that? Are you crying, Miss Maya?"
Looking at his tiny, flickering shadow through the gap and hearing his pure, naive concern, Maya felt as if a thousand needles were piercing her heart. She pressed her face against the cold wood, swallowing her sobs. "I'm... I'm okay, Mark. Just head back, please..."
"I'm gonna get you out!" Mark said firmly—a childish promise, but packed with pure courage. "I know where the key is!"
"You what?!" Maya froze.
"Dad just went to take a shower... He left his black coat in his office, and I saw this huge silver ring of keys in his pocket. He always brings it when he comes down here!" Mark whispered breathlessly. "Just wait right here! I'm gonna go grab it!"
"Mark! Don't—"
The tiny pitter-patter of his footsteps sped away into the silent hallway before she could stop him, leaving Maya rooted to the spot.
Ten minutes dragged by like ten centuries.
Maya stood pressed against the door, her hands clutching her skirt hem, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. Every crash of thunder outside and every gust of wind through the bars made her flinch. If Travis caught him... if that ruthless man found his son holding those keys... She couldn't bear to let her mind finish the thought.
A heavy wave of guilt washed over her.
What on earth am I doing? Am I really taking advantage of a naive five-year-old kid... the only person who offered me genuine love in this hellhole... just to save my own skin?
The weight on her conscience left her breathless. She was a teacher. Her job was to shield Mark, not throw him into the lion's den against his own father.
Clatter... CLANG!
The sharp clink of metal echoed right outside the lock.
Maya gasped. Through the crack, Mark's tiny frame reappeared. He was clutching a heavy, oversized metal keyring in both hands, his little face flushed and dripping with sweat, breathing hard after his heart-stopping heist.
"I... I got it, Miss Maya!" Mark whispered, his small hands shaking as he tried the keys one by one.
Rustle... Snap!
On the third key, the tumbler turned. The heavy iron chains slithered off the door and hit the stone floor with a dull CLANG. The reinforced wooden door creaked open inch by inch.
Faint light from the corridor spilled into the dark cell.
Mark stood on the threshold, still clutching the keyring, his round ash-grey eyes wide as he looked at his teacher. Seeing Maya in her crumpled grey dress, her cheeks hollowed out and her arms covered in dark red marks, the little boy couldn't comprehend what had happened—he only knew his teacher had been hurt badly. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Miss Maya... does it hurt real bad?"
Maya collapsed onto her knees, pulling Mark’s small body into a tight embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears falling freely in a mix of overwhelming gratitude and agonizing guilt.
"I'm so sorry, Mark... I am so, so sorry," Maya choked out, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't have let you do this... Are you okay? Did your dad see you?"
"No... He's still upstairs on the third floor," Mark shook his head, wiping her tears with his small hand. "You gotta run, Miss Maya. Don't stay here. Dad's being really mean—he locked you up like... like he was hiding a toy."
Looking into Mark's innocent eyes, Maya knew this was her one and only shot at escaping this iron cage. If she didn't run tonight, she would be buried here forever, and Mark's brave sacrifice would mean nothing.
She took him by the shoulders, looking straight into his eyes, her voice urgent and dead serious.
"Mark, listen to me very carefully..." Maya bit her lip, holding back a sob. "You take these keys, run straight back to your dad's office, and put them right back in his coat pocket. Then you get into bed, pull the covers up, and pretend you were sleeping the whole time. Got it?"
Mark nodded eagerly. "Okay."
"No matter what happens, no matter what your dad asks you, you do not admit you unlocked this door for me. Promise me!" Maya wiped her tears, stroking his soft hair. "You have to promise me, Mark!"
"I promise, Miss Maya!" Mark whispered, reaching out his little pinky to lock with hers.
"Good boy..." Maya kissed his forehead gently, then firmly pushed him back toward the hallway. "Run! Go, go! Thank you... I'll remember this for as long as I live."
Mark clutched the keyring, looked back at her one last time, and scurried off, vanishing into the shadows of the north corridor.
Without wasting a second, Maya moved.
She didn't go back for any belongings. She simply threw on her worn cardigan—torn at the hem—slipped into her old canvas shoes, and stepped out into the rainy night.
At night, the Gothic castle felt ghostly, cold, and dead. Thanks to her previous walks around the estate, Maya had memorized every inch of the back layout. Avoiding the main hallways equipped with cameras and guards, she snuck through the narrow service corridors used by the staff, heading straight for the rear gardens.
Pour... slash... gush!
The relentless mountain downpour slammed into Maya's face the moment she pushed through the side exit. The biting cold soaked straight through her thin clothing, making her shiver violently.
Yet the sheer craving for freedom fueled her with superhuman energy. Maya gritted her teeth, clutched her aching chest, and bolted through the overgrown rose bushes. Sharp thorns tore at her clothes and carved bloody lines across her bare arms and legs, but she felt no pain. Only one thought screamed in her head: Keep running! Stopping means dying!
She sprinted through the pitch-black garden toward the abandoned stone house at the far edge of the grounds.
Right beside the stone cottage was a small back exit—an old iron service gate used for garden haulage, secured by nothing more than a simple chain.
And there, parked behind the thick pine trees just outside the stone perimeter...
An old grey-black sedan sat idling under the pouring rain, its headlights completely killed to avoid drawing attention.
Through the curtain of rain, a familiar figure stood holding a black umbrella, trembling with fear but keeping her eyes locked faithfully on the stone wall.
It was Chloe!
"Chloe!" Maya called out, her voice raspy and barely audible over the thunder.
Chloe gasped, spinning around. When she saw Maya's frail, bruised figure burst out from the gate, she almost dropped her umbrella. She rushed forward, catching Maya just as her legs gave out from sheer exhaustion.
"Maya! Oh my God, Maya!" Chloe sobbed hysterically, hurriedly draping a heavy winter coat over her friend's shoulders. "You made it out! You actually made it out! I had a bad feeling you were locked up after your phone went dead, so I’ve been parked out here every night waiting for you!"
"We... we gotta go before they notice! Drive, Chloe, drive!" Maya gasped, her hands shaking as she clutched Chloe's sleeve.
Chloe didn't waste time asking questions. She hauled Maya into the back seat of the beat-up car. The tires tore through the muddy track, the engine revved, and the car sped off into the pitch-black night down the mountain pass.
Inside the warm cabin, the heater hummed softly against the sound of rain beating on the windshield.
Maya sat curled up on the back seat, clutching a thick fleece blanket Chloe had stashed for her. Her whole body was still shivering uncontrollably from the cold and the lingering trauma. Up front, Chloe drove through her tears, glancing back in the rearview mirror, her heart breaking at the sight of her best friend's hollowed, battered state.
Involuntarily, Maya turned her head and looked out the fogged-up rear window.
Far off, perched high on the fog-drenched hilltop amidst the storm, the isolated Gothic castle loomed like a massive, ruthless stone monster.
Out of the hundreds of dark, lifeless windows dotting the estate...
A single window on the third floor—the window to Travis's private office—suddenly flared with a brilliant, ice-cold yellow light.
Maya stopped breathing.
Even from hundreds of yards away through the driving rain, she could feel it: a tall, muscular silhouette standing against the glass of that illuminated window. The dark figure stood motionless in the dead of night, like a lord casually gazing down at a pet that had just slipped out of its golden cage.
The light from that window cut through the storm like a pair of sharp, frigid ash-grey eyes, locking right onto Maya's soul.
A cold fever spiked up her spine once more. Maya knew tonight's flight was far from the end. Travis's twisted, dark, secret-filled game... had only just officially begun.
Maya closed her eyes tight, turned back around, and let the old car carry her straight into the unknown darkness ahead.
