They hadn’t been strangers. They had been tried in the same court, on the same day, for the same crime—a crime neither had committed. But the warden had separated them before they could speak. Three years, and they had never known each other’s names.
Until now.
“We don’t go back,” she said. “Even if we have to dig through rock with our nails.” tunnel escape fates entwined
In a week, they would learn the magistrate’s name. In a month, they would find the forger. In a year, the warden would wake to find two shadows in his chamber. They hadn’t been strangers
Liera had slipped into the crawlspace through a gap in the cistern drain, her wrists raw from iron. She said nothing when she found him. She just took the spoon, turned it around, and dug. Three years, and they had never known each other’s names
Survival would take more than running. It would take trust—the hardest thing for two people who had been taught to see the other as the reason for their ruin.
Not the wooden supports—those had held. It was the earth itself , heavy with spring rain, deciding to settle. A cascade of mud and rock sealed the tunnel behind them. Ahead, only a whisper of moving air promised open ground.