Chapter 6

Ember’s POV

I woke to the sound of rain hammering the roof like a thousand small fists. It was still dark somewhere between night and dawn when I slipped out of bed and crouched beside the wardrobe where the ledger lay hidden. My fingers brushed the stiff paper and for a second I imagined it pulsing like a living heart. Every time I touched it I felt that same tremor of danger and possibility.

Today, I told myself. Not escape,not yet but a step.

I dressed in my plain uniform, hair tucked back, and padded barefoot to the kitchen. Mrs. Ejiro would not arrive for another hour; Duke was still snoring in his narrow cot off the pantry. The mansion was quiet except for the hiss of the rain and the faraway hum of the generator.

I poured a mug of lukewarm water and sat at the long prep table, spreading out the tiny scrap Duke had given me last night. A single name. A possible crack in Aaron’s armor.

I whispered it under my breath like an incantation. Duke had told me Forrester was an investor who hated being cheated, that he had a temper. If there was a thread to pull, maybe this was it. But how did a trapped girl reach a man like that without drawing a noose around her own neck?

My stomach twisted. Even thinking his name felt like a crime.

Footsteps padded behind me. I shoved the paper under my palm, heart jack-hammering.

“Relax, Princess.” Duke’s voice was a whisper. He looked rough hair sticking up, T-shirt damp with rainwater. “I told you I’d be up before the cook.”

He slid into the seat opposite me and rubbed his hands together. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“First test run.” His eyes flicked to the window. “Storm’s good cover. Guard rotation’s sloppy when it rains. You said you wanted a way out first we need to know if the holes I mapped are real.”

A bead of rainwater ran down my spine even though I was dry. “You want me to go outside?”

“Not far,” he said quickly. “Just to the tool shed by the north hedge. No cameras, but one motion light. If you can get there and back without anyone noticing, then maybe we’ve got a shot later.”

I swallowed. “And if I’m caught?”

“You’re fetching herbs for Mrs. Ejiro. She likes to dry mint. Nobody questions the cook.”

It was ridiculous. It was risky. It was the only thing that felt like movement in days.

“Okay,” I said.

Duke smiled without humor. “Good girl.”

---

The hallway smelled of polish and damp. I walked slowly, measured, the way staff do when they’re invisible. In my pocket, the ledger pressed against my ribs like a secret talisman.

Down the back stair, past the storage room. My ears catalogued every sound: the murmur of a radio, the clink of glass, the steady patter of rain. At the mudroom door I paused, heart hammering, and glanced through the pane.

The garden stretched before me slick stone paths, dark hedges trembling under the storm. The tool shed squatted near the far wall like a crouched animal. No guards in sight.

I pushed the door open. Rain slapped my face.

One step. Two. My shoes sank into the sodden ground.

A motion light flared.

I froze, pulse spiking. The light illuminated only empty space, then blinked out. Somewhere to my left, a guard coughed.

Keep walking, Ember.

I reached the shed and ducked inside. The smell of oil and damp wood filled my nose. Tools hung like iron teeth on the walls. For a moment I just stood there, shaking.

A shape moved in the corner.

I nearly screamed.

It was a man grey hair, thin shoulders, kneeling over a broken thermostat unit.

The wine-cellar repairman.

He turned his head and our eyes met. Pale blue, ringed with exhaustion.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he murmured.

Neither are you, I wanted to say, but my throat closed.

He glanced toward the door, then back at me. “Do you work for him?”

I swallowed. “I yes. Sort of.”

His gaze sharpened. “Then you’re a fool or a prisoner.”

The words felt like a slap. “Maybe both.”

Something flickered across his face, pain, maybe memory. He lowered his voice. “Get out while you can. Aaron ruins everything he touches.”

My heart pounded. This was the man Duke had mentioned. The one who hated Aaron.

“I can’t just walk out,” I whispered. “He’ll”

“I know what he’ll do.” His knuckles whitened on the tool. “He did it to my daughter.”

I hesitated. The ledger in my pocket burned. Was it insane to show him? To speak?

The decision was made for me. From outside came the crunch of boots on wet gravel. A guard’s voice. “Check the shed.”

The grey-haired man’s eyes widened. “Hide,” he hissed.

I darted behind a stack of crates as the door creaked open.

“Is everything all right here?” the guard asked.

“Just me,” the repairman said easily. “The thermostat's acting up again.”

The guard grunted. “Hurry it up. The boss wants the cellar perfect for tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow night. The date on the ledger“SEALED AUCTION: 18th” flashed in my mind. Tomorrow.

The guard left.

I exhaled shakily.

The repairman waited until the footsteps faded, then crouched beside the crates. “Who are you really?”

For a moment I couldn’t speak. Then I whispered, “Someone he plans to sell.”

His jaw tightened.

I pulled the ledger halfway from my pocket, just enough for him to see the stamp at the top: INVESTORS. His eyes flared.

“Where did you get that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Can you help me?”

He looked at me for a long moment, rain dripping through a crack in the roof onto his sleeve. Finally he said, “Meet me here tomorrow night. Midnight. Bring that ledger. If you’re serious, we might both get out.”

A door cracked open inside my chest. Sunlight didn’t pour through but something like it.

“I’ll be here,” I said.

He nodded once, curtly, and turned back to his work.

I slipped out of the shed, heart hammering, and retraced my steps through the rain. This time the motion light stayed dark.

Duke was waiting in the kitchen, pretending to slice plantains. When he saw my face he knew something had happened.

“Well?”

“I found him,” I whispered. “He wants me to meet him tomorrow at midnight.”

Duke’s knife paused mid-slice. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the auction date.”

“I know.”

His eyes darted to the doorway. “This could be a trap, Ember.”

“Or it could be the only chance we’ll ever get.”

He stared at me, then exhaled. “I’ll cover you as best I can. But if something feels wrong run.”

I nodded.

The day crawled like a wounded thing. Every time Aaron’s footsteps echoed down the hall I felt the ledger’s weight in my pocket. He seemed in a good mood, which was worse than anger. He called me “little dove” once as he passed, eyes unreadable.

By evening my nerves were frayed raw. I scrubbed marble until my arms ached, smiled at Mrs. Ejiro’s jokes, and kept my head down. Duke slipped me a tiny flashlight and a folded paper map of the garden paths.

“Don’t lose it,” he murmured.

Night fell heavily. The rain stopped but the air smelled of metal and wet earth. I lay on my narrow bed fully clothed, heart thudding, counting the minutes until midnight.

When the clock in the hall struck twelve, I rose. The mansion was silent except for the soft snores of sleeping guards. I padded down the stairs, out the mudroom door, across the slick lawn.

The shed loomed ahead.

I pushed the door open.

Empty.

No tools scattered, no grey-haired man, no broken thermostat. Just a single envelope on the floor.

I bent and picked it up. My name my real name, Ember Leighton was written across the front in a hand I didn’t recognize.

My stomach flipped.

I tore it open.

Inside was a single sheet of paper with four words:

“Run. He knows everything.”

A sound behind me boots on gravel.

I spun.

Aaron stood in the doorway, rain dripping from his coat, a gun in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Well,” he said softly. “You’ve been busy.”