The unknown ally paced in frustration, his fingers curling into fists. News of Camilla and Jonathan's recapture by Victor had reached him faster than expected. He had taken risks, made moves in the shadows to keep them from falling back into Victor's hands—and yet, here they were, proving just how incompetent they could be.
"Useless," he muttered under his breath, his anger simmering. "Absolutely useless."
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He had already done more for them than he should have, and this was the thanks he got? Another failed escape? Another reckless move that had led them straight back into Victor's grasp?
"I'm done," he spat, slamming his fist against the desk. "They're on their own now."
Turning away from the message he had just received, he grabbed his coat and stepped into the night. Whatever debt or obligation he had felt toward them was now gone. If they couldn't survive without him, then maybe they weren't worth saving in the first place.
******
As Jonathan sat in the dimly lit cell beside Camilla, he leaned his head against the cold stone wall, trying to control his frustration. The walls were thick, the air damp, and the single bulb above flickered every now and then. Victor had them exactly where he wanted.
Camilla let out a tired sigh. "We were careless," she muttered.
Jonathan didn't respond right away. Instead, his fingers traced the rough surface of the wall behind him. That's when he felt it—something different. A groove. A slight indentation. His heartbeat quickened as he pressed against it. The stone shifted just a little.
Camilla noticed his change in expression. "What is it?" she asked.
Jonathan didn't answer. He adjusted his position and pushed again, harder this time. The brick moved slightly, revealing a narrow gap. Dust crumbled down, and a faint draft of cool air touched his fingertips. His mind raced.
"A passage," he whispered.
Camilla sat up straight, eyes wide. "Are you sure?"
Jonathan didn't need to answer. He started working quickly, prying the loose brick out, revealing an old tunnel barely big enough for them to squeeze through.
"This must have been here before Victor took over," he said, peering into the darkness beyond.
Camilla hesitated. "And if it leads to another trap?"
Jonathan met her gaze. "Then we fight our way out. But staying here isn't an option."
A sound echoed from down the hall—footsteps. Victor's men were coming.
"Now or never," Jonathan said, pulling Camilla towards the passage.
Without another word, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind an empty cell and the beginning of a dangerous escape.
Victor's men entered the cell, expecting to see Jonathan and Camilla still locked up. Instead, the room was eerily empty. The chains that once bound them lay discarded on the cold floor.
One of the guards stepped forward, eyes scanning the dimly lit space. "This…this doesn't make sense," he muttered. There were no signs of a struggle, no forced locks—just an unsettling silence.
Another man checked the door. Still locked. "They didn't get out this way," he said, his voice laced with confusion.
It wasn't until one of them leaned against the far wall that something shifted. A faint gust of air rushed through a barely visible crack in the stone. The guard's eyes widened. "A passage…"
Realization hit them all at once.
"They had help," one of them growled.
Another turned on his radio. "We have a problem."
But outside, deep within the hidden tunnels beneath the stronghold, Jonathan and Camilla were already moving fast. Every step they took was a step closer to freedom—if they could stay ahead of Victor's inevitable wrath.
As Jonathan and Camilla hurried through the dark passage, their footsteps echoed against the damp stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and stagnant water. It was clear that no one had used this tunnel in years—perhaps even decades.
Jonathan ran his fingers along the rough walls, brushing off cobwebs as they moved deeper. "I think this was built as an emergency escape," he murmured. "We're lucky Victor never bothered to seal it off."
Camilla exhaled sharply, her breath uneven. "Lucky? We don't even know where this leads."
"We know one thing," Jonathan countered. "It leads away from Victor."
They pressed forward, feeling their way through the tunnel's twists and turns. The deeper they went, the stronger the scent of fresh air became. Then, finally, they saw it—a faint light ahead.
Jonathan quickened his pace, leading the way as they emerged from the passage onto the muddy banks of a river. The sky above was still dark, with only a hint of dawn on the horizon. The sound of rushing water filled the air, drowning out any noise from behind them.
Camilla bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. "We need to keep moving," she said between gasps. "Victor will realize we're gone soon."
Jonathan looked around, scanning the area. "Agreed. But first, we need to figure out where we are."
With no time to waste, they followed the riverbank, knowing that every step took them further from Victor's grasp—but also deeper into the unknown.
As they trudged along the riverbank, their clothes damp and their bodies exhausted, the sight of the familiar school building brought a wave of relief crashing over them. Camilla let out a shaky breath, and Jonathan ran a hand through his disheveled hair, both of them taking a moment to let the realization sink in—they had truly escaped Victor's grasp.
"We made it," Camilla whispered, almost as if saying it out loud would break the illusion.
Jonathan exhaled sharply, his muscles finally relaxing. "Not just anywhere—we're at Jillian's school. This means we have a chance to reach her."
Camilla turned to him, her expression serious. "But we can't just walk in through the front gates. We look like hell, and Victor's men could be out there watching."
Jonathan nodded. "Then we wait until nightfall. We'll find a way in when no one's looking."
They moved further away from the river, taking shelter behind an old storage shed near the back of the schoolyard. The area was quiet, the school still in session, which gave them time to think and plan.
Camilla leaned against the wall, exhaustion evident in her face. "Do you think Jillian will even help us?"
Jonathan gave a small smirk. "She helped before, didn't she? And besides… she hates Victor just as much as we do."
As the sun began its slow descent, they prepared for their next move. They had escaped Victor, but the real battle was just beginning.
As the evening deepened, Jonathan and Camilla remained hidden behind the school's storage shed, their eyes fixed on the students leaving for the day. Their bodies ached from exhaustion, but the thought of safety kept them rooted in place.
Jonathan exhaled sharply. "Are you sure she's still here?"
Camilla, scanning the schoolyard, nodded. "She has to be."
Minutes passed, and their patience grew thin. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the horizon when Camilla suddenly stiffened.
"There," she whispered, pointing toward the school gates.
Jillian walked out, accompanied by Clara and another girl they didn't recognize. They chatted casually, their laughter reaching Camilla's ears like an echo from another life.
Jonathan took a step forward. "We should call out to her."
"No," Camilla said firmly, gripping his arm. "Not yet."
They watched as Jillian and her friends lingered by the gate, talking about something before finally parting ways. Jillian walked off alone, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
Camilla swallowed hard. "This is our chance."
Jonathan hesitated. "What if she refuses to help us?"
Camilla's jaw tightened. "Then we find another way."
With that, they stepped out of the shadows, moving toward Jillian before she disappeared down the street.