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The door opened, and Veronica leaned in, wearing a nightdress and holding the key. By the look of her sleep-creased face; she’d been rudely awoken. Em experienced simultaneous jubilation that it wasn’t Sonny and dread that her chance was about to disappear. Her only hope was to place some kind of block in the crack of the door once it was closed. The blade of the knife. But already Veronica was shutting the door. “D-did you hear?” she called, stepping forward on wobbly legs.
The door opened again. “Hear what?”
Em closed the distance between them, careful to keep the knife from view. “The President was shot.”
Veronica blinked in surprise. “All he said was to lock the door,” she croaked, obviously dazed from being awoken so abruptly.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?”
Veronica grunted and shut the door.
Shaking with equal measures of fear and adrenalin, Em leaned against the door and stuck the blade in the right spot to prevent the lock from catching. Her breath caught as the bar pushed against the blade. This was it. If Veronica realized what she’d just done, she’d force her way in and it would all be over. Em waited, half expecting the door to fly open and knock her backwards, but it didn’t. She managed a deep breath and then another. All she had to do now was to open the door and make her escape. But what if Veronica was still standing there? Or Sonny? What if it had all been a trick? A test of some sort? Memories of past punishments paralyzed her. “Stop it,” she whispered.
She hesitated a moment more and then pulled the door open far enough to release the metal tongue. She tossed the knife onto the rug behind her and peeked through the crack. No one was visible. Slowly, she opened the door and looked out at the empty hallway. This was it. This was her chance.
*****
