Arianna
By the time Easton pulled the hidden panel shut behind us, I could hear my father shouting my name from the archive.
Not yelling.
That would’ve been easier.
My father never needed volume to make people listen.
“Arianna.”
His voice carried through the stone wall behind us, calm and furious all at once.
I grabbed Easton’s hand and kept moving.
The passage was narrower than I remembered, barely wide enough for one person at a time. Dust coated the stone floor, and the air smelled old and stale, like the tunnel hadn’t been opened in years.
Celeste hurried behind us.
“Left at the end.”
Easton glanced back.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Excellent.”
“Do you want directions or confidence?”
“Both would be nice.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
It felt almost wrong.
We were r
