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I glance around the room at the books, the desk, the tables, the couches.
Nothing.
I’ve already gone through all the drawers. There’s nothing in this room that I can use as some kind of lever to pry it open. I’m going to have to just hope that I can get enough of a grip with my fingers to pull the door back enough to open it and get out.
I try and?—
“Damn!” I say out loud, and then cover my mouth.
Sure enough, all I did was loosen it enough and then lose my grip so the door closed back on itself, the lock clicking in place.
Tears spring in the bottom of my eyes. My one shot, and I blew it.
I draw in a breath, sniffle, and force the tears back.
There’s got to be another way. All I have to do is find it.
I can’t give up. Falcon never gave up in prison, and I won’t give up now.
I swallow down nausea as it creeps back up on me.
I feel like I need to throw up again, but there can’t possibly be anything left in my stomach. Not after everything that spewed all over Miles.
I can’t help a slight smile at that thought.
Miles covered in puke. My puke. That’s how he’ll always think of me from now on… Even if I don’t escape, I’ll always have that.
Of course, that might just make him more pissed, which doesn’t bode well for me. My smile fades.
Damn it, Savannah. Think!
Ugh. All I can think of is Miles, who will be coming out of the shower at any moment?—
I drop my mouth open. Miles! Of course!
He has to be able to get out of here. He has a key. Where are his clothes?
I sneak back into the bedroom. The bathroom door is open, but he can’t see me from the shower. At least I hope he can’t. The shower door glass is frosted, right now it looks like his head is down and he’s washing his hair.
Still, I’m as careful as I can when I find his pants. I shake as I go through the pockets. First I find his wallet. Good thing to have. Then, in another pocket, his phone and a key chain with a few keys on it. I grab the keys and hurry back to the door.
I turn back and snatch his phone as well. Don’t want to make it easy for Miles to call for help once he realizes I’ve escaped.
I run back to the door and shakily lift the keys to the lock.
First key doesn’t work.
Fuck.
Second key?—
Yes!
The lock disengages, and because I’ve got the key in the lock, I’m able to pull the door open. I turn the key again, locking the mechanism, and then close it from the outside, locking Miles in. I have his key, and there’s no keyless entry on this door. I suppose they couldn’t take the chance that I’d guess the code. After all, what more is there to do in a room than go through every permutation? I’d eventually get it after days and days of doing the same thing.
I look down at my vomit-stained nightie. Why didn’t I think to change my clothes? Why didn’t I think to grab my purse?
Because all I could think of was escaping. There’s nothing in my purse to help me anyway. They took my wallet and my phone.
