“Alexander, please!” Vivian cried, wrapping her arms around his leg.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

“Get off me!” Alexander roared, trying to shake her loose.

The delay was only a few seconds, but it was enough.

Celeste disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.

The sound of her quick, light footsteps echoed down the wooden floorboards of the east wing.

“Elena, go!” Alexander yelled, struggling to pull himself away from Vivian’s grasp.

I grabbed Ethan’s hand.

His palm was sweaty, but his grip was firm.

We ran out of the parlor and into the dark corridor.

The air in the hallway felt colder now.

The storm outside lashed against the high arched windows, sending sheets of rain against the glass.

I did not go toward the security room.

I knew where Celeste was heading.

I knew she was going to the study to find those papers.

If she burned them, we would never be able to prove what she did to Eleanor.

We reached the intersection of the two main hallways.

To the left was the safety of the security wing.