Chapter 7 - The Great Escape
"He can't walk, Finnley!" Maya yelled as she burst into the room, her laptop clutched to her chest. "The guards are locking down the elevator shafts! We have to use the laundry chute at the end of the hall!"
I didn't hesitate. I lifted my father into my arms. He felt light—too light—a testament to a year of deliberate neglect. He wrapped his arms around my neck, whispering, "I'm sorry, son... I'm so sorry I couldn't save you from that courtroom."
"You saved me by leaving that key, Dad," I said, sprinting down the hallway as the heavy boots of the security guards echoed up the stairs.
We reached the utility room just as two guards turned the corner, their tasers drawn. Maya slammed the heavy oak door shut, throwing a metal broom handle through the handles to lock it from the inside.
"Go! Down the chute! It empties into the linen bay on the ground floor!" she shouted.
I placed my father onto the metal slide first, holding him tight against me as we plunged into the darkness. We hit a massive mountain of soft, soiled sheets a second later. Maya came tumbling down right behind us, her face flushed but her expression triumphant.
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We burst through the loading dock doors into the cool night air just as the facility’s main alarms reached a crescendo. We scrambled into Maya’s sedan, the engine roaring to life as she slammed the accelerator.
In the rearview mirror, the gates of St. Jude's faded into the dark. My father sat in the backseat, his hand resting securely in mine. He was safe. He was alive. And the battle for our family name had just officially begun.
