Chapter 5
The Escape Through the Boiler Room
I didn't pack a bag.
I grabbed my father’s heavy silver signet ring from the ceramic dish by the sink.
I slipped it onto my right thumb.
I grabbed my heavy canvas backpack, stuffing Natalia’s envelope and my laptop inside.
Heavy footsteps echoed on the exterior metal fire escape outside my window.
Clink. Clank.
Boots hitting the grating.
Someone was checking the window latch.
I didn't hesitate.
I bolted toward the hallway door, unlocked it quietly, and slipped out into the stairwell just as my apartment window shattered behind me.
Glass tinkled against the linoleum floor.
“She’s gone out the back!” a gruff voice yelled inside my living room.
I sprinted down the concrete stairs, skipping three steps at a time.
My sneakers slapped against the steps with rhythmic fury.
I reached the ground floor and ducked into the basement laundry area.
The air smelled of damp lint and sulfur.
I threaded my way past the rumbling washing machines toward the old coal chute leading out to the alley.
Behind me, the basement door swung open with a heavy bang.
Flashlight beams cut through the dusty air, sweeping across the concrete floor.
“Check the utility lockers!” shouted a heavy-set enforcer.
I squeezed myself into the narrow gap behind the building's massive cast-iron boiler.
The metal was searing hot, radiating a dry, choking heat.
I pressed my back against the damp brick wall.
Footsteps crunched on the gravel just feet away from my hiding spot.
“Clear over here,” a voice muttered.
“Keep looking. The boss wants her alive.”
The footsteps retreated toward the front street.
I waited thirty agonizing seconds, listening to the rhythmic thumping of my own pulse.
Then I crawled out from behind the boiler, scrambled up the rusted iron rungs of the coal chute, and pushed the heavy steel cover outward.
Night air rushed into my lungs.
I pulled myself out into the dark alley, rolling silently onto the wet asphalt.
May you like
I was out.
But I had nowhere left to hide in New York.
