“You must,” he insisted, pushing me toward the opening.

“If you stay, they will take the papers.”

“Go to Denise. Show her what you found.”

“I will tell Nico I forced you to come down here.”

“No, Mr. Alvarez, I can’t let you take the blame,” I said.

“He will not hurt me,” he said, though his eyes betrayed his fear.

“I have been here too long. He needs me to run the kitchen.”

“Go, Harper. Now.”

I hesitated, my heart tearing.

From the corridor above, we heard the heavy thud of the kitchen door opening.

Voices echoed down the stairs.

Nico had arrived.

“Go!” Mr. Alvarez whispered, his voice urgent.

I grabbed the edge of the brick chute and pulled myself up.

The brick was rough, scraping my elbows and knees through my clothes.

I squeezed my shoulders through the narrow opening.

The cold night air hit my face as I scrambled onto the wet concrete of the alley.

Rain was falling softly, slicking the pavement.

I lay on the ground for a second, catching my breath.

Then I heard the sound of the cellar gate being unlocked below.