Another piece of stone struck Shawn near the ear, drawing blood. Cris and Liam rushed to him. Shawn was laughing when Cris threw her arms around him, then smacked his knee.
"You're a jerk!" she snapped.
He was safe, thankfully. Wiping the blood, Shawn urged, "Let's get out before the big guy wakes up again."
The hammer sure had powerful impact, it shattered the gates.
They climbed over broken stone slabs to leave the area. Past the gates, a wide staircase spiraled downward. At the bottom stood a rusty iron door—open. Too open. It once led prisoners into the maze.
Liam drew his gun and crept inside. Cris and Shawn followed. A silent corridor stretched ahead, empty and cold.
They crept to another door—also open. Beyond it was the prison. Most cells held nothing but skeletons, crumbling behind rusted bars. Another short staircase led to a second iron door.
"We're too late. Kace is gone," Liam muttered, dread settling in. Maybe he hadn't made it.
Then his eyes locked on a skeleton with a red cloth tied around its skull. That wasn't right. He stepped closer. Something gleamed in the bony hand. He pried it open and found a small note with a ring.
Liam read aloud, "I'm sorry I couldn't help you. My nephew is here to rescue me. To assure you, I'm leaving my ring."
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Liam asked, eyeing the door.
"Yeah. Who gave him the ink in here?" Shawn blurted, then instantly regretted it as Cris shot him a death glare.
Liam cleared his throat. "If Kace isn't here and someone helped him escape, that means he is the one who left the gates open, and it means... all the gates are open."
To be sure, they opened the next door. Just as they feared—it wasn't locked.
Meanwhile, I kept hoping I'd wake up from some twisted dream. But instead, a whisper brushed past my ear.
"Zinnia."
I couldn't move. Then again—closer.
"Zinnia."
I forced my eyes open. The guard's face hovered inches from mine.
"I know it's soon, but we have to go."
I somehow stood, though the floor still felt like a cheap spring mattress beneath my feet. I again stumbled but he caught me.
Then we crouched to the left, toward another vent. Crawling inside, I heard him whisper,
"Monroe's about to reach the control room. She's going to lose it. Just follow my lead."
The vent was wide enough for us to move side by side. We crawled to the exit and paused, listening to fading footsteps.
"The control room is locked!" Monroe's voice echoed, pacing furiously.
"Give me emergency access!" she barked into the phone.
This was his plan—once she triggered emergency access, all doors would unlock.
The moment the alarm blared, he popped the vent cover and peeked out. Monroe had already entered the room. He pulled me up, and together we slipped into the corridor, silent and quick.
He was leading me out, but the moment he turned the corner, he ran straight into another guard. Without hesitation, he pulled me behind him. He was taller—thankfully.
"Who activated the emergency?" the other guard demanded.
"The prisoner escaped. All guards have been summoned to the control room. She hasn't escaped yet," he replied.
I gasped. Doubt hit me like a punch—had I done the right thing trusting him? But the lie worked.
The other guard nodded and rallied the others toward the control room. As they disappeared down the hall, my ally stayed pressed to the wall, shielding me.
"You're crushing me," I whispered.
"Oh, sorry." He stepped forward, and we both darted down the corridor. The emergency red lights drenched everything in a haunting glow, casting long, twitching shadows.
Elsewhere, Monroe watched us through the surveillance feed. Her voice was calm, cold.
"Kill them both," she whispered into the phone, then hung up.
We had no idea what was coming. All we could do was stick to the plan.
At the end of the corridor, two paths opened—one veered right into another hallway, the other led straight to a gated exit.
As we reached the center, we both froze. Someone was approaching—quietly.
I spotted a beer bottle on the floor, likely abandoned by a lazy guard. I grabbed it, ready to strike. The guard who was helping me raised his gun, eyes locked forward.
The moment the footsteps drew near, both sides charged—us and whoever was coming. I nearly smashed the bottle over my own brother's head before realizing who it was. My heart leapt. We were finally together.
We collapsed into a group hug, their arms around me saying everything words couldn't. Liam pulled back first, eyes sharp, and pointed his gun at the man beside me.
"Whoa, whoa, easy!" I stepped between them, quickly explaining how he'd helped me.
"My name is Tristan," the man said at last. I was relieved to finally know it.
Liam hesitated, then offered his hand. Tristan shook it. I peeked past my friends, searching for one face in particular. I missed Don.
"We left him at the school," Shawn said, his voice dropping. "Your absence hit him harder than anyone else." He looked at me with regret. "I'm sorry."
I wasn't upset because Don wasn't here—I was upset knowing he was breaking without me. The thought twisted inside me.
"We don't have time," Tristan said, already rushing to the next door. It was unlocked, like the others. We slipped into a massive hall.
At the far end stood the control room, the key to every gate in the building—including the massive double doors to the right.
Tristan handed his gun to Shawn and ran to the control panel. Two minutes later, the doors clicked open.
We bolted through—and found ourselves standing on a helipad, free at last.
To the right was a wide open ground, and just beyond the helipad, a river glistened in the dark.
"There might be a boat nearby—we can use it to escape. My uncle's on that boat," Tristan said, jamming an iron rod through the door handles.
"There it is!" Liam squinted into the distance. "Kace?" Even from here, he recognized him. Kace was in a boat with two other prisoners.
"You know him?" Tristan looked genuinely surprised.
Shawn moved closer to the edge. The boat was docked below, lower than the helipad, and he was trying to figure out how we'd reach it.
But before we could make a move, the rumble of several vehicles cut through the air. I spun around. Headlights blazed at us, blinding. Doors slammed. Dozens of men stepped out, guns raised and aimed.
Then someone else stepped forward—and my breath caught. It was Don.
Tears blurred my vision. Relief crashed over me. He came for me. I moved toward him, heart full.
"You can lower your weapons!" I called out.
Both Liam and Tristan obeyed, lowering their guns.
Don walked forward. So did I. But just as he neared one of the other men, he grabbed a gun from him.
Then he fired.
The bullet tore through my stomach.
It wasn't the pain that broke me—it was his face. He didn't blink. His hand didn't tremble.
Why? Was it betrayal? Rage? Was he forced? Was he even himself?
I dropped to my knees, clutching my stomach, still trying to understand.
"Kill me, because I can't live with the fact that you—the man I loved—shot me," I thought. I had no strength left to speak or move. Only a single tear clung to my lashes. I didn't blink.
Liam and Tristan were our only hope, but we were outnumbered. They knew fighting back wasn't the goal—saving me was.
Just as Dorian raised the gun again, Liam dove in front of me. The second bullet struck his arm. He dropped into my lap.
That was it. My heart shattered. A scream ripped from my chest, raw and broken. I screamed because I was helpless. Because my brother was hurt. Because I was always the reason the people I loved got wounded.
Pain roared in my ears. My whole body trembled.
Then something strange happened. A bluish-white light pulsed around me. I didn't notice it at first. The energy surged from somewhere deep inside, triggered by the storm in my chest. A glowing circle formed around me and spreaded around until it vanished—and in that moment, nothing mattered but Liam.
I held his face, crying.
"I won't let you die," I whispered, voice trembling.
A hand touched my shoulder. I looked up. Cris knelt beside me, eyes wide.
"Zinnia… I think you just discovered your powers."
I turned.
Everyone—every guard, even Dorian—was frozen in place. Transformed into statues of ice.
"The boat is gone!" Tristan shouted, spotting it drifting away. He rushed back to Liam, dropped to his knees, and pressed down on the bleeding wound. He yanked off his cap and flung it aside.
"He's slipping away!"
Liam brought his palms together and whispered, "Apertum." A glowing portal opened on the helipad.
"Go through... before I faint," he gasped, barely holding on.
But none of us were ready to leave him, least of all Shawn. He slid under Liam's arm, supporting him as Tristan grabbed the other side. Together, they carried him through the portal. The moment we crossed, Liam collapsed. And so did I.
But we were safe—back at school, in the main hall, surrounded by students. Faces blurred around me, voices echoed, and then everything faded.
I had come a long way. From a naïve girl who trusted the wrong people, who mistook enemies for friends, and friends for enemies… into someone stronger. Someone who now knew how to freeze her enemies.
Well—almost. I had the power, yes but look what it cost me. And how to use it? Still a mystery.
One thing I did know: I could never go back to a normal life. That part of me was gone.
This all began because of me. I'd run from it long enough. I lost people I loved. I learned the true meaning of betrayal. From now on, I would trust no one—not even my own shadow.
When I opened my eyes, Mrs. Leonardo was sitting beside my bed, eyes on the floor.
I pushed myself up. She looked at me with a tearful smile. Without thinking, I threw my arms around her and broke down, sobbing into her shoulder, "Please save him!". She was the closest thing I had to a mother—and I needed this release.