A soft sound from the other guard's shifting position brought her back to reality. There was no time to lose. Lauretta's instincts kicked in again, urging her to act decisively. She checked her surroundings one last time, her eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of movement. Then, with a deep breath, she moved toward the door, ready to take whatever risks were necessary to uncover the truth. Heart pounding, the guards moved again, and she realized if she continued this stupidity, she would be caught like an idiot. She had to find another way.
She retreated to her room, her mind racing for another way in. That's when she remembered the manhole. She had stumbled upon it accidentally weeks ago while cleaning a corner of her room. Hidden beneath a loose floorboard, it led to a network of narrow passages that ran through the entire building—something she doubted anyone else knew about. Her desperation drove her to act. Quietly lifting the manhole cover, she lowered herself into the dark, claustrophobic space.
The air was thick with dust and the faint smell of dampness as Lauretta descended into the darkness. The small, narrow passageway immediately closed in around her, its oppressive silence making her feel as if she were being swallowed by the earth itself. She could barely see her hand in front of her face, and the only sound was the faint echo of her own breathing, heavy with anticipation.
Her mind raced as she crawled through the tight space. The walls felt close enough to press against her sides, and the floor was uneven beneath her. She had no idea how far the passageway stretched or where it led, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered now was getting to the meeting room undetected.
The passage seemed to wind and twist, the air growing colder the deeper she went. Every few moments, she had to pause, feeling her way along the walls, making sure she wasn't about to hit an obstacle or give away her position with an unexpected noise. The dim light from a small crack in the wall ahead guided her, but it wasn't enough to make her feel safe. Every step was a calculated risk.
Her heart raced with the thrill of the danger, but also with the weight of the decision she'd made. If anyone found out about this hidden path, it would be the end of her—her position, her secret, everything she had fought for. But the need for answers, for control, outweighed the risks. She couldn't afford to wait around and hope for someone else to expose the truth. Lauretta had to do it herself.
She came to a narrow shaft in the passage, the faint light from above growing brighter. It was a small grate, just large enough for her to squeeze through. She paused, listening for any sound that might suggest someone had noticed the commotion. When she heard nothing but the distant murmur of voices, Lauretta decided it was now or never.
With a deep breath, she climbed up to the grate, her fingers feeling the cool metal as she lifted it with careful precision. She peered through the opening, scanning the room on the other side. The familiar, dimly lit corridor led to the back of the conference room. No one was in sight. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as she gently pulled herself up, wincing as the metal scraped against the floor.
Once inside the building's inner workings, Lauretta was in the clear—at least for the moment. Her body was still covered in a fine layer of dust, and her clothes clung to her from the dampness of the tunnel, but it didn't matter. She was close now. She could almost taste the danger.
Taking quick, deliberate steps, Lauretta moved through the shadows, using the dim corridors to keep her presence concealed. Every muscle in her body was tense, anticipating the moment she would either succeed or be caught. The muffled voices from the conference room were louder now, just beyond the thin wall. She could hear the low hum of conversation, but not enough to discern any details.
She took a deep breath and crept closer, pressing her ear against the wall, trying to catch any fragments of information that could change everything. She had made it this far, and there was no turning back now.
The air was thick with dust, and Lauretta's lungs burned with each shallow breath. Her stomach scraped against the rough stone floor as she continued crawling through the suffocating darkness. The passage seemed to stretch endlessly, every corner and bend adding to the tension that coiled tighter in her chest. Cobwebs brushed against her arms and face, sticking to her skin like invisible threads, but she couldn't afford to stop and swat them away. Every second counted.
As she moved forward, her mind raced with the possibilities of what was happening in the room above. What were they discussing? What decisions were being made that could change everything she knew? The need to find out, to piece together the secrets she'd been kept from, pushed her forward despite the discomfort, the claustrophobia, and the silence.
The sound of a loose floorboard creaking beneath her body sent a jolt of panic through her. Lauretta froze, her breath catching in her throat. For a brief moment, it felt as though the entire building held its breath along with her. If anyone heard that creak—if anyone was close enough—they'd investigate. But as the seconds stretched on and no one moved, she exhaled slowly, convincing herself that the sound had gone unnoticed. It could have been anything—a rat, a shift in the house's aging structure, or maybe even the wind. She dared not risk making another sound as she inched her way forward.
Her arms and legs ached from the awkward crawl, but Lauretta didn't stop. She couldn't afford to. The section of the passage she had reached felt more fragile now, as if it had been abandoned long ago. The wooden beams above her were old and sagging, some of them rotting away. The floor beneath her was uneven and littered with debris, making each movement a careful decision. Still, she pressed on, determined to reach her destination.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she reached the section directly above the conference room. The walls here were slightly thinner, and she could make out the faint hum of voices just below. The muffled sound was too distant to catch any words, but the tension in her chest told her that the conversation below was critical. Lauretta's fingers brushed along the edges of the floorboards, feeling for any loose ones she could pry open. The passage was tight, but she had to get closer. She had to hear what was being said for the first time in a long time she missed her wolf hearing, being human sucked.