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Brigid crosses her arms. “The janitor—who, by the way, is vital to this escape—has a name, you know.”
His smile turns slightly sheepish. “Thank you, Brigid.”
She smiles. “Alright, let’s go.” She opens the rusted door next to us. The air reeks so badly that I have to cover my mouth.
“My, what a lovely smell we’ve discovered,” Danel mutters as Brigid opens the door.
Arn’s face wrinkles with disgust. “Try living next to it for months.”
“Well, it’s this or going back to your cell,” she retorts, vanishing inside.
With a shrug, I hold my breath and follow her through the garbage, Danel and Arn following close behind. When the door opens, the fresh air still reeks of garbage, but I inhale anyway. It’s the sweet, smelly scent of freedom.
We hide inside one of the garbage trucks, burying ourselves in threadbare linens and vats containing chemicals I don’t want to know about. After what feels like an eternity, the vehicle starts to move.
Our relief is short lived, though, because even from inside the trucks, we hear the prison alarms blast. Brigid grabs my arm and gives it an anxious squeeze. I pat her hand.
No matter what happens, I’m coming for you, Tania.
CHAPTER 17
TANIA
My eyes keep glancing toward the door. I know that Sathior is out for the night, but my paranoia always gets the better of me.
Damn, I wish I had eaten something before starting on this. My stomach rumbles and the thought of a cheeseburger and fries dances around my brain. Maybe this is a craving?
I push the thoughts out of my head. I need to focus. I should be able to finish this within the next hour, and I can grab a bite and head home.
The tears on this fabric are giving me a hard time. They’re frayed beyond repair, so I have to trim the excess and try to mend what’s left. The rip is only about two inches, but it’s taking so long to fix.
I glance at the door again. Part of me imagines Sathior standing in the doorway. Arms crossed, a pissed look on her face, and demanding to know what I’m doing.
But I can’t tell her what I’m doing. At least, not unless she sees me in action. If she caught me doing repair work on other people’s clothing, she would throw me out on the street in a heartbeat.
I sigh and remember why I’m doing this. It’s only a matter of time before my belly gets too big to hide and Sathior learns the truth. Once that happens, I’m out of a job and struggling to get work. After all, who would want to hire someone who got fired from the Sathior Havani? If I can’t cut it here, who else would want me?
So, it’s repairs and tailoring. Off hours, squeezing in the work wherever and whenever I can. It’s not much, but I have to start saving now. I estimate I’ll be good for another month or two, but beyond that, it’s all up to fate.
I look down at my belly. It’s barely showing anything now, and I can’t even feel the baby growing inside me. But it’s there. All from one passionate night.
My thoughts turn to Garet. How strong and powerful he was, and yet so gentle.
I only wish I could let him know what’s happening. He deserves to know about this child, even if he can’t do anything about it. He’s probably off on some dangerous mission somewhere, oblivious to the fact that he left part of himself growing inside me.
Would he be happy about it? Or angry? Even though we only had a minute together, he was so hard to read. I could never tell if he was distant, pissed, or just didn’t care about anything. Part of me wishes he would be happy, that he would want to help raise this baby.
But, that’s a problem for a different day. For now, I need to focus. I trim another frayed section and try to work the needle into the remaining fibers. My eyes are straining to see what I’m doing, and it’s getting harder to see whether I’m threading the needle or not.
Suddenly, I hear a noise from the front. Was that the door? Or am I just being paranoid?
My eyes flash to the door to the workshop. I hear another noise. Someone is definitely here.
Without thinking, I open a drawer and shove everything into it. Instinctively, I stand up straight with my arms crossed protectively in front of me.
I look around the room and see an unfinished piece of Sathior’s. It’s a project we’ve been putting on the back burner, but it’s the only thing that would make sense right now.
I glance at the door again to make sure it’s empty. Then I fly across the room and grab the dress off the mannequin. I’m sure I’ve damaged a piece of it, but I can fix that later. During work hours, hopefully.
