IV. Sneaking out

I no longer feel the warmth the sun brought us inside the cellar; for now, only the cold air of night remains.

I wake Decy. He’s not too happy about it, but helps me anyway. We move the box, I crawl inside the hole, pass the paper hiding the peephole, then the door and its mechanism, until I finally reach the passage to the closet.
I pass one leg through it, then the other.
I lower myself slowly in order not to exhaust myself. Our music boxes are very sensitive, so I must move as slowly as I can to keep my breath steady.

Once I reach the ground, I open the closet halfway and peek through the crack.

Darkness has filled the main corridor. Even though daylight never succeeds in brightening this place either way, it is still darker than usual. Mayth’s room is on the first floor and her market is just below the dining room.
Only the monthlings know of its existence and how to access it.

All the doors are locked at night so going to Mayth’s room would be irrelevant.
It is then my goal to reach and search her market instead, hoping my necklace is there. I will improvise otherwise.

I exit the closet and follow the walls by sliding my fingers across them, feeling for any familiar bumps that could indicate which direction I am going. I arrive at the main stairs. I know some of them creak easily, as they always do when I walk on them during the races. I carefully descend each step while avoiding some. Night itself is louder than my current movements.

I finally reach the ground level and am able to visualize where the market is from where I stand.

I walk on the tips of my toes and suddenly feel a liquid soaking my socks. I slowly bring my wet foot to my hand, slide my finger across it to collect a sample, and proceed to smell it. A strong iron odor fills my lungs, the familiar stench of blood.

My head starts to spin. I feel like the corridor in front of me widens, the dining room door seeming to drift away as I realize what I just stepped into.

It means two things.
First of all, I’ve been affected by Marc’s event far deeper than I thought.
Second, the Lady in Apron locked us all up just to have a conversation with the unknown monthling rather than actually clean.

Those were my last clear thoughts.

My head sways, I feel dizzy, I cannot walk straight. My breathing grows uneven; I need to focus.

I feel my body weight falling forward. I order my leg to follow the movement, catching me before my fall. It makes a loud thud.

The fingers of the Lady in Apron, tainted red, ripping Marc’s box from his throat appear in front of my eyeballs. She’s smiling. Or is it grandpa’s smile?

My head drifts to the right now. My arm lifts up and my hand presses itself against the wall I am about to hit. I turn my head to look at what I am leaning on. Holes are covering the planks of the wall. I see eyeballs moving behind each one of them, searching for my gaze, eyeing the scene. They aren’t blinking. They seem to mock me.

I push myself away from the wall. I know for a fact that it is all in my head, but it is hard to reason with myself after all I saw. I sit on the ground; it could end my life if anyone finds out I am here, but it is necessary for my mind to settle back into reality.

The dining room door is right in front of me, which means that a closet should be located to my left.
I search for its handle and my fingers slide across it at last. I open it, go inside, and search for a hidden trapdoor by feeling for airflow.
A sweet breeze passes across my cheeks, allowing me to locate the entrance.

I place the tips of my fingers on the wood to feel the asperities on it, searching for the carved button. There it is. I push it and, with a silent click, a whole wooden slab opens.

Displayed in front of me: Mayth’s market sign.

I go inside without making a single noise. It is pitch black, or so I thought until I noticed a single lit candle on the main desk. Someone is still here. By the look of the candle and its consumption, it has been burning for some time now.

The candle is almost entirely melted, which could mean its owner already left.
I am unable to turn back anyway.
From what I can remember, there are multiple ways to access this place. The most known is the one I just used, the classic way every monthling knows. There is also the direct access to her room, known only by some of us, and the garden access. There might be more, but I am unaware of them.

The main entrance can only be locked from the inside, which means that, to cover my tracks and my passage here, i’ll have to find another way out to be able to lock the main entrance.

But enough of that. I am here to retrieve my necklace and nothing more.

This tiny place is well managed by Mayth. Almost everything is locked inside what she calls her special vault. I don’t know how she managed to get her hands on something that rare, nor how she tuned its string lock to her box, but it is an authentic music-box safe. If my necklace is inside it, there isn’t a chance of me getting it back.

I look through the other storage chests and drawers but cannot find it anywhere. I use the remaining light emitted by the candle to look around. There are only items previously owned by monthlings who bargained them away for food she’s selling: book covers, bracelets, hairpins, and even prosthetics.

I look under the main desk and find a toolbox, an item highly forbidden by the rules of the orphanage.

I open it and begin to weigh the risks of breaking the safe to get back what is mine.

A rusted hammer, used screwdrivers, a hand drill covered in wood dust, even a saw is in there.
Where did she find all of that…?

This necklace is everything to me i cannot afford to loose it and certainly not to her. I make up my mind and decide to br-

“Sup girl, goin’ shopping without the owner?”

Fear immobilizes my limbs. Chills cover my whole body. I don’t even have time to turn my gaze before my head is struck by a metal rod, sending it against the ground, bringing me into unconsciousness.