Page 54 of Inheritance

Sal hesitated, just for a second. Then stepped forward.

“I’m getting her out,” he said, eyes locked on the chain at my ankle. Not looking at Caroline.

She blinked. “What?”

He knelt beside me and pulled a ring of keys from his coat. The metal clinked softly, horribly loud in the silence.

Caroline straightened. “No. You’re not.”

He ignored her, sliding the first key into the lock.

Didn’t fit.

Another. Too tight.

The third key went in crooked. He pushed too hard. It stuck. He yanked it out with a muttered curse.

My heart was beating too fast. I crouched lower, trying to keep still—hope, despair, hope, despair.

Caroline took a slow step forward, eyes glassy. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

Fourth key. Fifth.

Every time one failed, I felt closer to breaking, to throttling him even though he was just trying to help.

The sixth key caught. So did my breath.

Click.

Wouldn’t turn.

Seventh. No. Eighth. Still no. I wanted to scream. He moved too slow and too fast at the same time. My ankle burned. The cuff bit into skin already rubbed raw.

Ninth.

Nothing.

I stared down at the chain, trailing from me to the bolt embedded in the tile like an anchor. My throat felt tight.

Caroline’s voice cut through the metal scraping. “Ivan will never forgive you for this.”

Sal spun around to face her. “I don’t need forgiveness from a devil.”

She shrank back into the corner, scared of the man trying to save us.

Sal stared at the last key. Just one left. He wiped his sweaty brow.

He slid it into the lock.

It turned—halfway.

He forced it further, but the lock refused. The key stuck inside, unmoving.

He looked at me. Then Caroline. Then at nothing, as if someone else might come through the door and finish what he couldn’t.

Caroline’s voice came again, soft but poisoned. “Good.”

Sal didn’t flinch.