Page 9 of Jay Bird

When she reached the kitchen, it was empty. Most of the household staff had retired for the night, exactly as she had hoped.

Willow hurried to the storage closet near the side entrance and pulled it open. Behind a jumble of cleaning supplies sat a large plastic storage bin, exactly where she had left it. She lifted the lid with shaking hands and pushed aside a stack of old linens, her breath catching when she saw her bag was still there.

Willow slung the second bag over her shoulder, nearly crying out when its weight pressed against her injured back.

She looked down at Lily. “I can do this,” she whispered. For her daughter, she could do anything.

Willow cracked open the side door and was met with nothing but darkness spilling out into the night. She paused there, holding her breath, listening for anything that might give her away. No voices. No footsteps. Only silence. The guards were on their sweep, just as she had hoped.

Willow slipped outside, the cool night air brushing against her face as she hurried across the grounds, staying close to the deep shadows. Lily was growing heavier in her arms with every step, and the bags dug painfully into her shoulders while each rushed movement sent a sharp jolt through her bruised body. Still, she didn’t slow down.

The outer wall finally came into view. She was almost there.

Willow reached the small service gate she had spent months studying, her pulse hammering so loudly she was sure it would give her away. She slipped through it on unsteady legs, bracing herself for the sound of alarms, footsteps, or someone shouting her name from behind. But nothing came.

She pulled the gate closed behind her, the soft click of it settling into place. For the first time in three years, there was no wall between Willow and the rest of the world, no locked doors or guarded thresholds holding her in. Freedom was right there. It was close enough to feel, close enough to taste, but she didn’t let herself believe in it yet. Not when every instinct told her that escape didn’t feel like relief. It felt like waiting for something to go wrong. And so she kept moving.

The outskirts of Marrakesh were roughly a mile away, and between her and the city lay dark roads, scattered buildings, and far too much open ground.

Willow started walking fast, forcing herself forward even though every instinct screamed at her to run. She wanted to break into a sprint, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the estate, but with Lily tucked securely in her arms and the raw, burning pain across her back, she knew she wouldn’t make it far if she pushed too hard. So she compromised, moving at the quickest pace her body could manage, hugging the edge of the road and staying in the shadows whenever she could

Every few seconds, she glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see headlights cutting through the dark or hear footsteps closing in behind her. But there was nothing, just the empty road stretching out under the night.

After several minutes, Lily stirred.

“Momma?”

“I’m right here.”

“Where go?”

Willow swallowed against the emotion clogging her throat.

“We’re going on an adventure.”

Lily lifted her head sleepily. “Ellie?”

“Ellie’s coming too.”

Apparently satisfied, Lily rested her head against Willow again.

Tears stung Willow’s eyes, but she forced them down and kept moving, quickening her pace.

Headlights appeared behind her, and her entire body tensed.

Willow immediately stepped off the road and crouched behind a low stone wall, holding Lily against her chest as the vehicle approached.

Lily whimpered.

“Shh, baby. Mommy’s right here.”

Willow held her breath as the headlights grew brighter, drawing closer with every passing second.

She imagined Chen awake, and he and his men searching every road between the estate and Marrakesh.

The vehicle passed. Thankfully, just an old truck rattling down the road.

Willow stayed hidden until the truck’s taillights finally disappeared into the dark stretch of road, and only then did she force herself to stand again. Her legs trembled beneath her, unsteady and weak from fear and exhaustion, but she didn’t give herself time to think about it. She just kept going.