Valentina's POV
Valentina didn't flinch. She knew who it was even before the door creaked open.
"Val…?" Isabella's voice drifted through the silence, soft as a threadbare whisper.
The familiar thud of Isa's boots against the hardwood floor followed — a rhythm Valentina had grown to find comfort in. She curled tighter into the corner of the couch, her cheeks stained with tears, breath coming in uneven waves.
Isabella stepped inside using the emergency key Valentina had given her months ago — "Only for the worst days," they had laughed back then.
But today was worse than either of them could've imagined.
Closing the door quietly behind her, Isabella shrugged off her coat and crossed the room in swift, unspoken understanding. She dropped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around Valentina in a fierce, grounding hug — solid, warm, and achingly real.
"We need to leave," Isabella whispered.
Valentina didn't respond right away. She just exhaled, trembling. The panic that had curled like barbed wire around her chest began to loosen. The comfort of Isabella's presence dimmed the storm just enough.
After a long pause, Valentina whispered, voice fragile, "How…?"
Isabella pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes. Her voice was low, but steady. "We'll go to Australia. Leo's place — you remember my cousin? I already spoke to him. He's expecting us. I'll cover the flights, everything."
Valentina blinked, stunned. "Australia?"
"Yes," Isa said firmly. "We leave tonight or tomorrow morning, at the latest. I'll handle all the logistics. You… you just pack. I've got you, okay? You're not alone."
Tears welled again in Valentina's eyes — but this time, not from fear. Gratitude surged through her like a tide. "Isa…" she choked out. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. God must've known I couldn't survive this alone and gave me you instead."
Isabella smiled, brushing damp strands of hair from her friend's face. "You'd do the same for me. Now no more crying. We're doing this. Together."
Valentina nodded, slowly wiping her cheeks. But then, hesitation flickered across her face.
"What about the marriage?" she asked softly. "With Leo. I'm not sure anymore. I mean… I've never even met him properly."
Isabella shrugged lightly. "That's okay. I told Leo everything. There's no pressure. Once we're safe, you decide how things go. This is about your safety, not a wedding."
A weight lifted from Valentina's chest.
Before she could respond, Isabella stood, her voice shifting into action mode. "Alright. I'll help you pack."
She started toward the bedroom, but Valentina caught her arm.
"No," she said quietly. "I'll pack. You handle the escape plan — check the flights, the money, the IDs. Let me manage the clothes."
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Her room looked like a battlefield — drawers flung open, clothes tossed in every direction, and a heartbeat pounding like a war drum in her ears.
Valentina moved on autopilot, folding clothes with trembling fingers. Her favorite jeans. Two neutral tops. A scarf. Her denim jacket. Simple, low-profile pieces. The kind that wouldn't raise suspicion at customs.
From the doorway, Isabella leaned against the frame, phone in one hand, a printed checklist in the other.
"Alright," she said, voice calm but clipped with urgency. "Here's the plan."
Valentina paused mid-fold, holding a hoodie to her chest. "I'm listening."
Isabella stepped inside, ticking items off. "Our tickets are confirmed. International flight to Sydney, 6:20 AM. One layover in Singapore. Economy class. New identities — I'm Maria Santos. You're Alessia Vega."
Valentina blinked. "You already got fake documents?"
Isabella gave a modest, sheepish smile. "Leo's contact owed him a favor. Passports are clean. Histories legit enough to pass, if we act like we belong."
Valentina nodded and resumed packing. "What about the guard?"
Isa's eyes darkened. "The one watching your building?"
Valentina nodded. "He's not directly outside, but always nearby. Lurking. Pretending to blend in. But I've seen him. Every day."
"Can you avoid him?"
"There's a window," Valentina said. "From 6:00 to 6:05 AM. Shift change. The night guard leaves at six sharp, and the replacement's always late. Five minutes of freedom. I've tested it. That's my shot."
Isabella's eyebrows lifted. "Then that's it. You take that gap. If anyone can pull it off, it's you."
Valentina zipped the duffel shut. "I'll leave from here. You from your place. Separate cabs. Terminal C. No eye contact. No talking. Just two strangers."
"Until we're seated," Isabella confirmed. "Then we exhale."
A long pause stretched between them.
Then Valentina spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "What about college? We graduate tomorrow."
"We handle that now," Isabella replied, already moving for the door. "We go see the principal. Say there's been a family emergency. Serious. Sudden. We're flying out tonight. We apologize. We ask for digital diplomas."
Valentina followed, hoodie clutched in her arms. "You think he'll believe us?"
"He won't have a reason not to. We keep it clean. We keep it simple."
At the threshold of her room, Valentina hesitated — eyes scanning over the space that held the echoes of her life.
"No graduation. No farewell," she murmured.
Isabella met her gaze, her voice soft. "We'll have our farewell in Sydney. Leo's couch. Cereal bowls. Silence that finally means peace."
A bittersweet smile tugged at Valentina's lips. "Sounds perfect."
Isa gave the checklist a final glance. "Pack light. Ditch your SIM card before you leave. And trust me — once we're in the air, it's over. We're free."
Valentina nodded, throat tight. "I'll never be able to repay you."
"You don't repay me, Val," Isabella said, her smile unwavering. "You live. That's all I want."
Valentina pulled her into a tight hug, arms shaking with the weight of everything unspoken.
And then, without looking back, she said, "Let's go. The principal's still in his office."
_________________________________________________________________________________________
The wind had picked up by the time they arrived at the college gates.
Everything looked ordinary. Too ordinary.
Valentina's eyes scanned the grounds—the empty benches, the flickering campus lamps, the janitor sweeping outside the administrative wing.
She tugged her hoodie tighter around her face, her voice barely audible. "He's not here."
Isabella nodded beside her. "Good. Let's keep it that way."
The campus was beginning to hollow out—students heading home or prepping for the next day's graduation. The scent of old paper and ink still clung to the air, even through the damp breeze. Valentina's stomach twisted with nerves.
As they reached the main building, Isabella glanced back, her fingers brushing against Valentina's as if grounding her. "One lie. One performance. We've got this."
Valentina swallowed and nodded.
INT. PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE – MINUTES LATER
Principal Sharma looked up from his desk, startled. "Miss De Luca? Miss Castillo? I wasn't expecting—"
"We're sorry to barge in, sir, but it's urgent...." Isabella began, her tone flawlessly measured.