Layla couldn't sleep.
The storm outside had returned like a promise — the sky trembling, the rain whispering secrets against the glass. She lay on her bunk with her hands folded across her chest, listening to the thunder roll in waves that sounded like footsteps.
Every crash reminded her of him.
Somewhere beyond the storm, Jayden was still moving. She didn't know how she knew — she just did. The same way she'd always felt his moods when they were kids, the same way her stomach used to twist before something bad happened.
The air tonight hummed with the same energy. Something was coming.
---
The Countdown
Nia had slipped her a small folded scrap after dinner. No words, just a tiny charcoal mark — a circle divided in half. It meant ready.
That was their code.
Layla had spent the past week gathering everything they'd need: a length of wire hidden in her shoe, a stolen lighter with half a spark left, two stolen key tags copied from the janitor's closet. The pieces were small, invisible to anyone who didn't know where to look.
But she did. She knew every screw in these walls, every hum in the vents.
The first move had to be perfect.
She rolled out of bed without sound. Reese stirred on the top bunk but didn't open her eyes. "You're really gonna do it, aren't you?" she whispered.
Layla froze. "Go back to sleep."
"I would," Reese murmured, "if I didn't think I might wake up to alarms."
Layla smiled faintly in the dark. "Then don't wake up."
---
The Hall
She slipped into the corridor barefoot, the tile cool beneath her feet. The air carried the sterile smell of bleach and control. Every light flickered on a timer, just long enough to make you feel watched.
But she wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
She moved toward the north stairwell, counting her breaths. At the third landing, she met Nia crouched by the utility door, screwdriver in hand.
"You sure about this?" Nia asked.
Layla nodded. "You don't get free by asking permission."
Nia smirked. "You sound like trouble."
"I learned from the best."
---
The Lock
The lock gave them less trouble than they expected. Old metal and patience — both weaker than they looked. The door clicked open, and a gust of stale air rolled out like the breath of something that had been waiting too long.
Inside was darkness, thick and quiet. Pipes lined the walls like veins.
"Where's it lead?" Nia whispered.
"Maintenance tunnels," Layla said. "I think they connect to the east gate."
Nia turned her flashlight on low. "Think?"
Layla smiled. "That's all freedom ever is — a guess that feels right."
---
The Memory
As they crept deeper into the passage, Layla's mind flickered back — to a night years ago, when she and Jayden had tried to run from their foster house.
He'd been thirteen, she ten. They'd made it three blocks before the cops found them hiding behind a dumpster. Jayden had refused to cry even as they cuffed him. He'd looked at her and said, "One day, we won't run because we have to. We'll run because we choose to."
She hadn't understood then. But she did now.
Tonight wasn't an escape. It was a choice.
---
The Watchers
Halfway through the tunnel, a light swept across the wall ahead. Voices echoed — guards on patrol.
Layla's breath caught. She and Nia ducked into an alcove, pressing themselves flat against the concrete.
"…you hear about the boy?" one guard said.
"Yeah. Carter. They think he's heading this way. Orders are to lock down every exit by dawn."
Layla's heart slammed. Jayden. He was close.
"Maybe they'll catch him before he does something stupid," the other guard muttered.
Layla's jaw tightened. Too late for that, she thought.
The lights moved on.
---
The Crack in the Wall
When the voices faded, Nia exhaled. "We should go back. They'll notice the lock's been picked."
Layla shook her head. "We're past the point of turning back."
They reached the end of the tunnel — a grated vent that opened into the outside yard. Through it, Layla could see the faint outline of the perimeter fence and the lights beyond it. The world was right there — wet grass, wind, freedom.
She pressed her hand against the grate. It was loose.
"Tomorrow," Nia said. "We make the real move tomorrow."
Layla nodded, but her hand didn't leave the metal. Rain dripped through the cracks, cold on her skin.
She whispered, "He's out there. I can feel him."
---
The Return
They made it back to the dorm without a sound. No alarms. No shouts. The silence was almost holy.
Layla lay in her bunk staring at the ceiling, the rain's rhythm steady above them. Reese turned over and whispered, "You come back?"
Layla smiled faintly. "Not yet."
"Then I'll leave your light on."
Layla's eyes softened. "Don't bother. I'll bring my own."
She closed her eyes. The storm sang its endless song, and in her dreams, she saw a road cutting through rain and mud — Jayden walking it, face hard, eyes alive.
The same sky covered them both.
And tomorrow, she'd start running toward it.