Or if he does, I’m quicker than him and don’t hear him following me.
I rush through the kitchen and then down the hallway to the foyer. I snag a pair of shoes left by the door. They’re two sizes too big, but I don’t care. I slip on the shiny black men’s shoes and tear outside.
One of the guards says something to me, but I don’t hear him. It’s all a blur, a whirlwind as I run for the gate.
My feet crunch over gravel and then through the grass. The metal iron gates are high and pointed, dangerous to climb.
“Please,” I beg, as I run for the locked entrance.
What makes me think they’ll let me go?
Why would I think he’d ever give me freedom?
The guard at the gate picks up the phone as I approach.
“Yes, Sir,” the guard says and clicks the buzzer unlocking the gate.
It’s slow to open, but I don’t care. I slip past after it widens just a few inches, enough to let me free. I can’t take a chance that he’ll reconsider and drag me back.