Chapter 8- Close Walls

Charlie appeared beside me, his expression tight. “It’s morning,” he said quietly.

I didn’t move. I just listened, my heart thudding hard against my ribs. The hallway felt like a different world — loud, unpredictable, full of people I couldn’t see but could feel pressing in from every direction.

A sharp shout echoed down the hall, followed by hurried footsteps. I flinched and stepped back from the door, my pulse racing.

Charlie reached toward me instinctively. “Hey… it’s okay. They can’t come in. Not unless she unlocks it.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady my breathing.

Then the lock clicked.

Once.

Twice.

A slow, deliberate sound that made every muscle in my body tighten.

I stepped back quickly, breath catching in my throat.

The door opened.

The woman stood there, framed by the bright hallway light. Her expression was the same as always calm and unreadable. She held a clipboard this time, tucked neatly against her chest.

“Good morning, Caroline,” she said, as if the chaos behind her didn’t exist.

But I saw it.

Over her shoulder, the hallway stretched out in both directions — and it wasn’t empty.

Two men in pale uniforms rushed past, each holding one arm of a girl who looked about my age. Her black hair was messy, all over the place her face streaked with tears. She kicked and twisted, screaming words I couldn’t make out. Her voice cracked as they dragged her down the hall.

Another girl stumbled behind them, trying to run the opposite way. She didn’t get far. Someone caught her by the shoulders and pulled her back, her feet scraping against the floor as she cried out.

My stomach twisted.

The woman didn’t turn to look. She didn’t react at all. She just stepped slightly to the side, blocking most of the view with her body, as if she could hide the truth by standing in front of it.

“Breakfast will arrive shortly,” she said. “You slept well, I hope.”

I stared at her, unable to look away from the chaos behind her. Another shout echoed down the hall. A door slammed. Someone was crying.

Charlie appeared beside me, tense and alert. “Don’t go near her,” he whispered. “Stay back.”

I took a small step away from the door.

The woman’s eyes followed the movement. “There’s no need to be frightened,” she said, her voice smooth like honey. “Everyone here is safe.”

Behind her, another girl was pushed into a room farther down the hall. She looked over her shoulder as the door closed behind her, her eyes wide with panic.

The woman didn’t look back.

She didn’t acknowledge any of it.

She simply lifted her clipboard, made a small mark with her pen, and said, “I’ll return later to check on you.”

Then she stepped out and pulled the door shut.

I stayed frozen long after the woman stepped out, staring at the door like it might open again on its own. The hallway noise kept spilling in — shouting, crying, footsteps pounding against the floor.

Charlie hovered near the door, listening. “Something’s wrong out there,” he murmured.

Another scream tore through the hallway. I flinched hard, my breath catching in my throat. Someone ran past the door, their footsteps frantic, followed by another set heavier and faster.

Then a crash.

Then more shouting.

The woman’s voice cut through the noise — firm, clipped, trying to control the chaos. But she didn’t sound calm anymore. She sounded rushed. Overwhelmed.

I took a step closer to the door, my heart pounding. The metal felt cold when I touched it, colder than before. I pressed my ear against it again.

“Hold her still!” someone yelled.

“I need help in here!” another voice yelled.

A girl sobbed, her voice cracking. “Please—please don’t—”

Then, as I pressed closer to the door, it moved.

Only an inch, but it moved.

My breath caught in my throat. I froze, staring at the thin sliver of hallway light that appeared between the door and the frame. My heart thudded so hard it felt like it might shake the door itself.

I pulled again, just a little.

It opened more.

Not locked.

Not sealed.

Not closed all the way.

The woman hadn’t finished locking it. She must have rushed away too fast, pulled into the chaos, distracted by the screaming and running and everything falling apart outside.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Caroline… she didn’t lock it. You can open it.”

I stepped back, my pulse racing. The hallway was full of fear and noise and danger. But the door — the door was open.

For the first time since I arrived, it wasn’t holding me in place.

Charlie moved closer, his voice low and urgent. “This could be our chance. Or it could be a trap. But it’s real.”

I stared at the crack of light, my breath trembling.

The door was unlocked.

And the world outside was waiting — loud, chaotic, terrifying.

But open.