Page 51 of Vapor

I wait, counting each agonizing second, giving them time to distance themselves from my room. Finally, I edge toward the door, my bare feet scraping across the plush carpet.

Eyeing the doorknob, I take a breath before giving it a quick twist. Relief floods me—it’s not locked. I exhale a shaky breath, daring to nudge the door open.

The hallway is dimly lit, the familiar antique sconces casting long shadows that dance across the walls like specters. But it’s the two men, standing like grim sentinels, that seize my attention. They turn their heads in unison, their glares sharp enough to cut steel.

“Do you need something, Miss LeBlanc?” one growls, his voice a low rumble that echoes the threat in his eyes.

“Nothing,” I reply, my tone cold despite the fear constricting my chest.

I force myself to hold their gaze for a heartbeat longer before retreating back into my room. The click of the lock sounds like a death knell as I lean against the door, my heart pounding out a frenzied rhythm.

Trapped.

Guarded.

Alone.

I slide down to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees, trying to quell the panic rising within me. How did my life become this twisted reality? How did I become the pawn in my father’s merciless game?

But there’s a fire in me, a defiant spark that refuses to be snuffed out. My father may have clipped my wings, but he hasn’t broken my spirit. Not yet. And as the night stretches on, I make a silent vow—I will find a way out of this gilded cage. No matter what it takes.

Trapped in my cavernous bedroom, darkness surrounds me. The steady tick of an antique clock reminds me that with each passing second, my freedom is dwindling.

I’ve never felt so confined. Before, I was caged by expectations, invisible boundaries set by my father, a man who saw me as an asset rather than his daughter. But this… this is different. The bars are real, manned by mountains masquerading as men, their eyes void of any warmth.

Despair creeps in like a slow poison. I swallow back the bitter taste of it. No. This is not how my story ends. Not with me wilting under the oppressive thumb of a man whose love comes with conditions and consequences.

With trembling hands, I unclasp the diamond bracelet from my wrist—the one he gave me for being an obedient daughter—and let it fall to the ground. I won’t be shackled by his twisted sense of control anymore. I’m done. I’m leaving. Tonight.

I change out of my dress and pull on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes. Normally, I’d never wear them off the court, but I won’t be able to escape in six-inch heels. Rather than waste time removing my stage makeup, I leave it on. It doesn’t matter. I can wash it off later.

Listening intently, I wait until the mansion sinks into slumber, until even the cicadas outside cease their serenade.

Finally, when the moon hangs low and silver in the sky, casting ghostly shadows through my window, I move. I slip across the room, avoiding the usual creaks in the floorboards.

The window opens with a slight groan of protest. I freeze, straining to hear any noise from the hallway. When nothing changes, I release the breath I’ve been holding.

Warm air rushes into the room, caressing my face with the promise of freedom. I clamber onto the sill. My heart beats wildly in my chest. I shouldn’t be scared. I’ve climbed down trellises and snuck out before, but never with stakes like these.

Outside, the roof of the porch stretches out, a precarious pathway to liberation. My feet find purchase on the wooden boards, which groan under my weight.

I inch forward, my movements deliberate, avoiding the urge to look down. Heights never bothered me, but the possibility of being caught, of being dragged back to that ornate cage, sends a shiver down my spine.

Reaching the edge, I pause, surveying the drop. It’s not too far. I’ve done it before. It’s now or never. If I get caught tonight, I’ll never get another chance to escape.

With a deep breath, I lower myself down, perching precariously on the edge. For a moment, I close my eyes, envisioning my future—untethered, undefined, mine.

And then I leap.

The bushes below aren’t kind, their branches clawing at me like desperate fingers. But they break my fall. I emerge with only minor scratches etched into my skin, a small price for the sweet taste of defiance.

There’s no time to savor it, though. I scramble up, casting a wary glance at the mansion looming behind me, half-expecting the doors to burst open. But the night remains still, save for the distant bark of a dog, oblivious to the drama unfolding.

With my heart racing and adrenaline coursing through my veins, I bolt. The path ahead is uncertain, fraught with peril, but it leads away from here, and that’s all that matters. Because for the first time in too long, I’m choosing my destiny.

My heart pounds and my breath’s ragged as I sprint across the dew-drenched lawn to the detached garage. I don’t dare glance back at the dark silhouette of the mansion.

Slipping into the garage, I grab a set of keys off the rack. Fortunately, the garage doesn’t have doors, so I won’t have to risk any other noise.

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