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Brock and Takeshi were confident in their abilities to knock out Ferren and Jared, the guards who were tasked with keeping a close on eye them, but the wall presented a more daunting challenge. It was heavily guarded, both on the ground and from above.

Their best idea yet was Adan making a very tall ladder…

So, they basically had nothing.

Their small ray of hope and the only thing keeping Khalani from pulling her hair out was Winnie’s gradual improvement.

Each night, Khalani visited her, intently watching the steadiness of her breathing and the hint of color returning to her cheeks.

But Winnie still hadn’t woken up.

“Give it time,” Ari had said the previous night, her hand gently resting on Khalani’s shoulder. “When the body sleeps, it can concentrate on healing itself.”

The next day, Khalani found herself scrubbing the dirty clothes harder, the soap dissolving into her skin as the sun set low in the sky. The faster she finished, the sooner she could check on Winnie.

“Why does it feel like we’ve gone from one prison to another,” Serene grumbled, holding up her soaked and wrinkled hands in disgust.

“At least we’re not behind bars this time. And we have a shower.”

Khalani said this, but a heavy weight had settled in her gut. She couldn’t pinpoint the problem, but every time she walked back to the house at night, an unsettling sensation crawled up her spine, and her steps hastened.

Like an invisible monster watched her from behind the curtains.

“Switched out iron bars for a roommate that snores,” Serene replied, momentarily distracting her.

“I do not snore!”

“Sure do. I bet even Takeshi can hear it outside the door.” Serene imitated an obnoxious noise that sounded like a creature dying.

Khalani gasped and threw a wet, dirty rag straight at her face. Serene retaliated by grabbing the entire water bucket, but it crashed to the floor.

“What the hell is going on?!” Marissa burst through the door, her frizzy black hair tied in a tight bun on top of her head.

Marissa was a rail-thin, middle-aged woman with a face full of freckles perpetually scrunched up in a scowl. In charge of their daily cleaning sessions, Marissa seemed to harbor a deep-seated disdain for Khalani in particular.

She was confident Marissa hated her more than she hated roaches.

And that was saying something.

“Nothing, ma’am,” Khalani said, her back going rigid. “The bucket just fell.”

Serene’s shoulders shook beside her.

The girl was definitely going to get them both killed one day.

But if someone needed to be buried, Khalani would be there with a shovel.

“Since you find this so amusing,” Marissa snapped at Serene, “you can skip dinner until you finish washing these other barrels of clothes.”

“Andyou.” Marrisa turned her harsh gaze to Khalani. “Go collect the dirty rags from Patreus’ training group. They’re usually drenched in sweat by the end of the day, so you get the privilege of cleaning them all. Move it!”

Khalani’s fists clenched as she heaved to her feet, struggling to suppress the expletives forming in her throat.

“Just follow their rules for now,” Derek had said the previous night. “We have a better shot of escaping if they don’t suspect we’ll leave.”

Stay calm. Stay focused. Then escape.

The sun was setting as she walked outside, turning the sky into a fiery canvas of reds and oranges. She took a moment to breathe and stretched her muscles over her head, somewhat grateful for the reprieve from sitting on a hard stool all day.