The guards take straw and make themselves comfortable away from the stalls and in a position blocking the exit. The night grows colder.
I listen closely. The straw begins to rustle as the men settle down for the night. When the sounds of snoring grow steady and deep, I wrap up Mercy and peek around the stall’s entry. The men are spread around the doorway, but the door isn’t entirely closed. It looks like there is just enough room to slip out. I pause, thoughts racing. I know if I stay here, I’ll get the noose.
I’ve got to try to escape. It’s my only chance.
I creep past the guard closest to me. He snorts in his sleep before rolling onto his side.
My heart throbs. The baby shifts. I cover my babe’s nose and mouth and creep by the next sleeping guard. The man closest to the door leans against the outside wall, his head collapsed on his shoulder. He sleeps right next to the small, open space. I hold my breath. I step on something sharp with my left bare foot and fight the urge to cry out in pain.
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