Page 13 of Dissent (The Dissenter Saga #1)

M y feet pounded the ground as I raced through the mansion, up the staircase, down the hall, and back into the safety of my room. I slammed the door closed behind me, panting and desperate for breath.

“Are you okay?”

I whipped around surprised, and found Chelsea.

“What are you doing in here?” I demanded.

“I was turning down your sheets, remember? What’s wrong?”

My brain couldn’t process anything. I needed to leave. I had to get out of here. I sprinted to my closet and pulled out a backpack. “Get out,” I said as I started stuffing my bag with clothing.

“Mara, what’s wrong?” she insisted.

I wasn’t thinking anymore. I just kept packing as my mind whirled with fear. They’re going to kill me. I couldn’t believe it, but they were actually going to kill me. I was going to die.

I needed to go.

I needed to run .

A firm grip grabbed me by the shoulders, spinning me around. “ Mara , what’s going on?”

Before I could even think of what I was saying, the words came tumbling out as I shrugged myself out of her grip.

“I’ve got to get out of here! They’re going to kill me because of Chase.

I’ve got to go!” I turned away, grabbing my bag and shoving it with whatever I could find.

But I didn’t get far. Chelsea’s hand wrapped around my wrist and began pulling me.

“Let go! What are you doing?” I fought back, pulling away from her.

“Shut up!” she growled. “I’m trying to help you.

I know a way out.” My thoughts froze. I didn’t have time for this.

Before I could even finish processing what she said, she was stripping off her uniform, revealing long, lean limbs and delicate lines of muscle over her body, including a six pack that left me gawking.

She threw the dress at me. “Put this on.” I stared at the uniform in my hands and watched as Chelsea went into my closet, pulling out jeans and a white t-shirt.

She glanced at me and then rolled her eyes.

“Don’t just stand there. Get dressed!” Then she was throwing the t-shirt over her head and slipping my jeans up her slender legs.

I looked at the dress in my hand one more time, hesitating, and then something snapped.

To hell with it. I had no freaking clue what was happening, but I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.

I started stripping my clothes off and changed into the uniform.

Chelsea, now dressed, moved around me, grabbing the pillows on my bed, lining them up and shaping them.

She was a flurry of motion, putting a blanket over the pillows, rumpling them in different spots before stepping back and admiring her work.

She then pulled out one of my dark brown shirts from a drawer and bunched it at the top of the bed where my head would have been.

Once satisfied, she turned to look at me.

“Put on good walking shoes and let’s get your hair up in a bun.

” She was on me in a moment, raking her fingers through my hair and collecting it all on the top of my head.

She twisted the hair around and fastened it with ties and bobby pins.

“Okay, grab those dirty sheets. I’m going to turn off all your lights. ”

I didn’t question her—I couldn’t afford to.

I just obeyed and made sure the sheets completely concealed my bag as my room went dark.

All that lit the room was moonlight coming in through my window.

I glanced at my bed and realized that, under the moonlight, the pillows looked like my body under the sheets, and the shirt looked like a mess of brown hair.

It would fool anyone who might peek in the room into thinking I was asleep.

The charade would be up, of course, the second they turned on the lights.

Chelsea opened the door a crack and poked her head out to check the halls before closing the door again, blanketing us in darkness once more. She slipped her hand into the waistband of her pants and pulled out a second mini-tab.

Wait…why did she have two?

She typed feverishly on her device before she looked back at me.

“Here’s the plan. You’re going to follow me out of the room, down the hall, and through the servant’s passageways.

Don’t look at anyone . Keep your head down no matter what.

We’re in the process of shift changes, so the night crew is coming in.

The extra people will help cover us. Don’t talk at all , got it?

And don’t question anything I tell you, just do it.

” I could feel the questions already mounting in my mind, but I kept my mouth shut and just shook my head. “Good. Let’s go.”

She went back to the door, poking her head out into the hall before pulling it wide open and stepping out into the hallway.

My stomach churned, but I hugged the lump of sheets against my chest, kept my head down, and walked out behind her.

She closed it behind me and led the way down the empty hall.

I felt hot suddenly, my chest tightening as I did my best to keep my face low and partially tucked into the bundle of sheets.

I wasn’t made for this kind of stuff. The anticipation and anxiety were wreaking havoc on my system, and I swore I could hear the rushing of blood in my ears.

I walked closely behind Chelsea, and at some point, we made a left down the hall and stopped at a dead end.

She rested her palm flat against the wall.

Beep!

A clicking sound followed, and a segment of the wall jutted inward before sliding to the left, revealing a stone passageway with a spiral staircase.

The servants’ passage. I knew the palace had tons of hidden corridors, but I had never actually seen one.

Chelsea stepped through the doorway, motioning me to follow.

There must have been some sort of sensor that registered there wasn’t anyone else needing to pass, because the panel beeped again and slid back into place with a final click.

Chelsea was light on her feet, moving fast down the spiral steps.

I did my best to keep up without getting entangled in all the linen I was carrying.

Winding downward, we finally came to the end of the stairs, landing in another corridor.

Chelsea slowed her steps, taking a cautious look around before turning to face me.

“Okay, down the hall there’s another door.

It’s a back entrance that leads out to the garages.

Almost everyone comes in through the primary servants’ entrance, so I think we’ll be able to avoid most people if we go that way.

Once we’re outside, follow me. Keep your eyes down and try to hide as much of your face as you can with the sheets.

We want to avoid any of the facial recognition cameras. ”

I opened my mouth to ask her a question but didn’t get a chance.

Before I knew it, we were down the hall and out the door she had mentioned.

I hid my face as best as I could without blocking my vision.

Our shoes crunched the gravel path past the garages.

I snuck a peek behind me and saw the mansion cast in moonlight.

It was hauntingly beautiful, but it provided me with no peace, only fear.

I swallowed hard as I turned my back on it.

I was probably never going to see my home again.

And the thought brought me some sadness, but I couldn’t help feeling excited.

For once in my life, I might actually be free of my dad, free of the witch that had tormented me for years.

But being free of them also meant losing Jacob, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to make that sacrifice.

We reached a collection of sheds. At the third one, Chelsea pulled on the handle and motioned me inside. With the door closed, she grabbed the lump of sheets in my arms and pulled out my bag. “Okay, we need to get to the extraction point.”

“The what ?”

She ignored me and kept talking. “This isn’t how we were going to do this,” she mumbled to herself, “but that’s how it goes.

I don’t know how much time we have, but we’ve got to assume we’ve got none left.

Here’s the plan—we aren’t too far from the edge of the property.

There’s a side entrance that service personnel use.

I’ve requested a temporary identity for you, so you’ll be able to make it past the retinal scans without an issue.

The problem is if the guard recognizes you. ”

“A temporary identity? What are you talking about?”

She glared at me as she bared her teeth, her voice layered with tension.

“I said no questions. Now just shut up and listen, okay? Freaking rich people can’t listen for crap.

If the guard recognizes you, we’re screwed, so run.

The good thing is, no one really pays attention to you, so we might be in luck.

Whatever happens, just follow me.” She handed me my bag, and before I could ask questions, she opened the door to the shed.

She took a step forward, but then backtracked, turning to face me once more.

“One last thing—right now your name is Melody Pearson, got it?”

“Melody Pearson?”

“ Yes ,” she said through gritted teeth. “ Okay ?”

I nodded.

She shook her head, almost as though she were trying to shake off her annoyance, before stepping out of the shed and marching on.

This whole thing was so screwy. I had no idea what was happening or why Chelsea was helping me, but I was grateful.

There was a small part of me, however, that wondered if this was all some sort of setup.

I didn’t know what scared me more, my parents wanting me dead or trusting the maid who I suspected had a death wish for me. Either way, I was screwed.