Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Harper
The explosion rocks the building, debris and smoke wafting in every direction.
Most of the girls look around, frantic, the wall crumbling, gleaming with sunlight, revealing a glimpse of outside.
Freedom is just a few feet away.
The chandelier swings haphazardly, and I glance up, hurrying away from the center of the room as it falls to the ground, smashing into a thousand tiny pieces, the crystal shards spraying in every direction.
I make sure to keep my back to the chandelier as it pelts the ground, the crystal showering us like bullets, and one of them grazes my arm and another my cheek.
It tears the yellow chiffon dress that Livia made me wear.
She made all the girls dress in bright colors for the “festivities” of the evening.
Yellows, reds, and oranges.
None of which were random.
She had several older ladies fix our hair and apply makeup. They wouldn’t speak to us, would barely make eye contact. And every time I attempted to glean information, they’d shock me with that stupid little remote trigger.
Livia made sure that we each wore a specific gown and were told not to trade dresses.
Her tone adamant as she threw clothes at each of us. If I had to guess, the colors were grouped by age. Margaret and I both wear yellow. The younger girls are wearing orange, and two girls who are definitely younger than us but the same age as the girls in orange, wore red.
Margaret whispered to me that those girls were new, but she wasn’t sure why I was in yellow and they were in red.
It didn’t matter. I was getting the hell out of this nightmare and not waiting around for whatever would happen next.
Light gleams into the ballroom.
Luca didn’t come alone.
Billowing smoke quickly fills the space, and I cough, a younger girl wearing orange is just on the other side of the glass, a sea of pain between us. Her eyes search around the room frantically for another way of escape.
The windows leading to the courtyard shattered with the explosion.
There’s glass everywhere and none of us are wearing shoes.
Each girl is careful as they hurry through the wall, broken stucco offering a glimpse outside.
There isn’t much room to squeeze through, but it’s enough to let one girl escape at a time.
Crystal and glass crunch beneath my feet, and I ignore the pain as it slices at my skin.
I won’t leave anyone behind. I hurry over to help the younger girl in orange having her wrap her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips as I take the brunt of the pain, walking over what feels like hot coals as the bottoms of my feet get sliced up.
I make it just over the glass, putting the young girl in orange’s feet firmly on the ground. “Go!” I urge, not wanting anyone to waste a valuable second.
“Stop!” Livia’s voice beckons from inside the compound, and the force of electricity burns through my neck, bringing me to my knees.
I’m not the only one she’s torturing.
The girls inside collapse around me, the pain unbearable. It hurts to breathe, to merely exist.
Heavy footfalls of boots storm the grounds; they’re just outside the hallway behind the mafia boss.
The fire alarm blares at an annoying rate until it suddenly goes eerily silent.
The smoke hasn’t vanished.
There aren’t sprinklers to put out the fire.
A soft click and the collar around my neck unlatches, loosening just slightly at the same moment that the fire alarm ceases to function.
I bring my hands to my neck, removing the device, throwing it across the room, letting it hit the wall, hoping to break it so no one will ever be forced to wear such a monstrosity again.
We don’t have much time. I hurry to the torn apart stucco wall, helping the girls out as quickly as possible.
Two more girls slip through to the outside as the men brandishing guns storm into the chaos.
I cough in the smoke, the air thick and heavy, enough to make it difficult to see, but I can hear Livia shouting out orders to her crew. “Don’t shoot her! She’s pregnant with my baby.”
If she doesn’t want us dead, then this is our one chance at escape. Practically pushing the girls outside, I wait until they’ve all gotten out before I begin to wedge myself through the crack, the bright light nearly blinding as I glance back at Livia just a few feet away, rushing toward me.
Luca.
He’s still inside.
The inward struggle makes me stall for a split second.
“Come on,” one of the girls shouts, grabbing my arm, yanking me through the hole and outside. “We have to move!”