The night broke open like a wound.
Thunder rolled over St. Briar, low and endless, shaking the walls and filling the air with a charge that made the hairs on Jayden's arms stand up.
He crouched behind the maintenance shed near the north wing, eyes fixed on the dorm windows. Somewhere inside, Layla was moving — he could feel it in the rhythm of the floodlights, in the way the guards' routes had shifted off-beat.
Every instinct screamed that tonight was the night.
---
The Spark Inside
Layla waited until the last round of footsteps faded down the hall. The tunnels below were ready — she and Nia had left the grate loose earlier that evening.
Her hands trembled only once when she pulled the screwdriver from her pocket. After that, the motion became mechanical — twist, lift, slide. The air that rushed in from the vent smelled like rain and metal.
Nia whispered, "You sure about this?"
Layla's voice was calm. "I've never been sure of anything else."
They slipped into the dark one after the other, the world shrinking behind them. The tunnel was colder tonight, the water higher from the storm. Every sound echoed like a countdown.
---
The Shadows Outside
Jayden checked his watch — 2:41 a.m.
Ortiz was posted near the fence line, keeping lookout. The last patrol had just passed. The gap they'd cut earlier still held.
Jayden adjusted the strap of his backpack — inside it, the essentials: wire cutters, a flashlight, and a copy of his last drawing. The one with Layla's silhouette behind the window.
He wasn't superstitious, but tonight, it felt like carrying faith.
He moved fast, silent, body low. The mud clung to his hands as he crawled toward the vent hatch beneath the dorm.
That's when he heard it — metal scraping softly from the inside.
His pulse spiked.
He pressed close, listening. Then he whispered, "Layla?"
---
The Recognition
Layla froze mid-crawl. For a second, she thought the storm was playing tricks on her. Then she heard it again — her name, low and raw, wrapped in disbelief.
She turned her flashlight toward the sound. A face emerged through the slats of the grate — older, thinner, scarred by years and fire, but those eyes—
"Jayden."
His hand came up, fingers curling around the metal between them. Hers reached through instinctively. The cold iron pressed between their palms couldn't dull the heat that passed through.
He smiled — a broken, trembling smile that looked like relief and apology all at once. "You're real."
Layla's voice cracked. "So are you."
For a second, the rest of the world disappeared — the storm, the alarms, the walls. There was just that contact, that impossible reunion in a place built to erase both of them.
Then reality came roaring back.
---
The Alarms
Ortiz's shout cut through the night. "Jay! Lights — move!"
Floodlights snapped on, blinding. Sirens wailed, harsh and immediate.
Layla jerked back, eyes wide. "They know!"
Jayden slammed his shoulder against the grate. It groaned, bent, but didn't break.
Inside the tunnel, Nia shouted, "Go! Now!"
Layla hit the grate from her side. Once. Twice. The metal screamed, then gave way, snapping loose enough for Jayden to pry it open.
She crawled out first, soaked and shaking, eyes wild under the floodlight. Jayden grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, shielding her from the glare.
For half a heartbeat, they stood together — brother and sister, storm-soaked and trembling, against the system that had split them.
Then Jayden said, "Run."
---
The Flight
They sprinted across the courtyard. Alarms echoed from every direction. Red lights flashed like veins in the dark.
Ortiz was already moving toward the tree line, shouting directions. "Gate's open! Move!"
Layla kept pace beside Jayden, barefoot and fast. The mud tore at her feet, but she didn't stop.
Behind them, voices barked commands. A spotlight cut across the field, sweeping closer.
Jayden shoved her forward. "Left!"
They ducked behind a parked maintenance van just as bullets tore through the air — warning shots, close enough to sing.
Layla gasped for breath. "You came back for me."
Jayden looked at her — really looked at her — and nodded once. "I never stopped."
---
The Border
They reached the outer fence. Ortiz had it half cut, wire peeled back just enough.
He motioned them through. "Hurry!"
Layla squeezed through first, slicing her arm on the wire. Jayden followed, shoving the torn metal aside. Ortiz came last.
A shout split the air behind them — "There!"
The guards were closing in.
Jayden grabbed Layla's hand and ran. The woods exploded with motion — rain, shouting, flashlights, gunfire. The night itself seemed to tear open around them.
But the world wasn't big enough anymore to hold their fear.
---
The Fire
When they finally stopped, miles from the facility, the sirens were still echoing faint in the distance.
Ortiz dropped to the ground, gasping. "We did it. We actually—"
He didn't finish. His breath hitched, eyes darting to the blood soaking through his shirt. A stray bullet — deep, silent until now.
Jayden caught him as he slumped. "Stay with me."
Ortiz managed a half-smile. "Told you… mistakes look like destiny…"
Then he went still.
Layla's hand covered her mouth. Jayden stared at the ground, rain mixing with the blood on his hands.
He whispered, "I'll make it mean something."
Layla's voice was hoarse. "He got us this far."
Jayden looked at her, eyes dark and shining. "Then we finish it."
---
The Sketch
When dawn finally came, they were sitting by a burned-out campfire, silence between them heavy but alive.
Jayden pulled the sketchbook from his bag — damp, smudged, pages torn. He flipped to the newest one and began to draw.
Two figures under a storm — one stepping out of a cage, one reaching back to pull her free. Behind them, a man's shadow fading into the rain.
Layla watched. "You always did draw like the world depended on it."
He smiled weakly. "Sometimes it does."
She leaned against him, eyes on the gray horizon.
For the first time in years, they were together. Not safe. Not done. But together.
And for now, that was enough.