***Important note at end***

" I am a victim of many unusual and irrational thoughts. I love my wife dearly. I cannot rationally pinpoint any reason for doing this. " 

- Charles Whitman murdered his wife and his mother and then proceeded to the University of Texas in Austin where he was an engineering student. He climbed up to the top of a tall tower on the campus with a rifle and opened fire on the people below, killing 16 and injuring 32 others.

Chapter 28

For the last time, my heels clicked on the dismal tiles of the prison hallway. Fading was my love for that place, the place I called my true home, and the place I felt like a really belonged. The peering eyes from behind the bars no longer bothered me; they were my friends, my family. But I had to let that go. I had to leave my old life behind.

I had told my father that I was picking up the last of my things from the office before quietly returning home and heading off to my aunties. The back seat was already filled with my 'essentials' and clothing I would need, as well as some packaged food I bought from the corner store. In reality, I took the car for one sole purpose; a get away. 

All the clothes and food, I hoped, would keep Vans and I secure for a little while. We wouldn't have to pull over and stock up on food and be caught by the security camera facial recognition. I parked the car in the closest spot to the prison gate and purposely left it unlocked. I wasn't going to leave anything to chance; my plan had to work.

I knew what I needed to do to get Vans out, but getting him out safely was the problem. There was always a chance that it would work and that one of us could get seriously injured, or worse, killed. But I would risk it. I would risk it for Vans and for the chance of a better life.

Passing the ladies at the front desk without a glance, a small smile crept upon my lips, as I knew I would never have to deal with their condemning gazes ever again. There was something deeply reassuring knowing I would never have to return. It would just be Vans and I, and whomever else we would pick up along our travels. There would be nothing constraining me anymore. I would be free.

It was chilly; I hugged my sweater closer and untucked my hair from behind my ears. It was going to be a cold winter, the coldest on record according to the weather woman on the news. I had hoped Vans and I would go somewhere sunny and warm, like Australia and escape the snow and the frost.

My feet had taken me to his cell without thought, as if the path was memorised in one corner of my brain, just waiting to be used. No guards were in sight; I had made sure to arrive when I knew they were doing their changeover for lunch duty. Everything had to go exactly to plan for it to work. My fingers laced through the bars, which felt weak and rusted beneath my hands, and was momentarily surprised at its iciness. It warmed quickly beneath my fingers as Vans placed his hands over mine. Heat rushed to my cheeks and my neck as a flush enveloped my face.

His face, although still handsome, was unrecognisable. The swelling on his forehead had grown considerably larger and was coloured darkly with purple bruising. His eyes revealed his insomnia; dark circles dug nearly half way down his cheek, which were gaunt and pale. Lips cracked and bloody, it looked like even a drop of water would help his extreme dehydration. 

On top of it all, his hair was dishevelled and sweaty, sticking to the back of his slumped neck with the perspiration that came with the feeling of being watched. He thought he was going to be murdered that night, and with the way he was looking, he would have died anyway from anxiety or dehydration if I didn't help him.

"Oh Vans..." I reached out and touched his cheek delicately, "What have you done to yourself?" He leaned into my palm and sighed, chest heaving with exhaustion.

"I thought...you wouldn't...come back." He whispered between breaths, clutching onto my hands. His skin pealed back to reveal his vulnerability. Underneath all his layers, he was but a scared child in my eyes; scared of death and of loneliness.

"I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you. Never again." I said quietly, stoking my thumb over his cheek.

He breathed heavily and, doing the best he could with the limited space and the bars between us, brought me into an embrace.

"Does this mean what I think it does?" He asked and I caught his change of pitch. He was hoping I would say yes and not leave him behind. But he didn't have to hope, it was his reality.

"Yes. Yes it does." I smiled and took a moment to absorb the happiness that began to radiate off of him in waves.

I could tell he was smiling just by feeling his muscles relax and his heartbeat quicken. I bit my lip and broke away from his embrace to look upon his face. His entire being was lit up by the brilliance of his smile, as if it were the cure to all that was bad in the world.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I don't have a life left for me here anymore, Vans." I shrugged, still grinning with giddiness. "I'm ready for a fresh start, with you."

"But what about the risks? What If you get hurt?" He reached out for me in concern but I slapped his hands away.

"That's for me to worry about. I've made my decision. Don't try to talk me out of it." I pointed at him and raised my eyebrows, daring him to challenge me.

He held his hands up in mock surrender and laughed quietly to himself.

"Okay. Well how do you suppose we do this?" He questioned, lips turned up in a permanent smile.

"I have a plan. It's going to be difficult, but we can do it." I didn't know whether it was determination or fear that drove me, but a newfound confidence swept through me like poison, overriding the timid, shy girl that I was known to be.

He nodded and came closer to the bars so we could talk quietly without being overheard. The cell that used to house Even Parker was still empty, so we were mostly unheard when it came to the rest of the inmates placed in the same hallway.

"You're going to have to do everything I tell you to do, or this will not work. Everything has to play out smoothly if we want to get out of this place alive, okay?" He nodded, a lopsided smile on his lips. "I'm only going to tell you what you need to do. What I will be doing can certainly not be overheard, even by an inmate at the end of these halls."

 I dropped my voice even lower and pointed to the cell about twenty meters away from where I was standing. What I was doing was too risky to be overheard, but what Vans was doing was nothing compared. All he had to do was wreck a little havoc. 

"I need you to start a brawl in the cafeteria without getting too injured. But it needs to be you who throw's the punches; you who get's detained by the guards. They will put you back in your cell while the rest of the prisoners continue eating lunch and all the guards will be centred around the cafeteria. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Vans nodded curtly and pulled me into another disjointed embrace. I chuckled and ran my hands through the back of his hair, craving the days where I would be able to do it without bars between us.

"After you're in your cell, wait by the door for me. You need to be ready to run, perhaps even fight, if we are going to get out of here." My voice trembled as anxiety began to burn in the back of my throat. There was every chance that we might not make it out.

"Okay. I trust you, Emily." He gently stroked my back and looked up at the digital clock on the wall behind me. "It is about an fifteen minutes before they take me in for lunch, sometimes they take me in early, so you may want to leave in a minute." He whispered and ran a cool hand down my arm. "I will see you soon, Emily."

"I will see you soon, Vans." I smiled and slipped out of his grasp. His hand dropped from my cheek, but the smile remained on both of our faces. Neither of us knew what the future held, but that is what made it so exciting.

I turned and left the hallways quickly before I was tempted to run back to him. If everything was going to work, I needed to play my part too. I wove through the hallways until I stood outside my father's office. I didn't hesitate to push it open, believing it would be empty, but I could never have been more wrong.

Digging through my fathers file draw was the one man I thought I would never see again; Chris Welsh. 

"What are you doing?" I asked before I could stop and think about the consequences of my actions.

Chris Welsh froze, hand hovering over a file. Payers were splayed beneath his feet and over my father's desk. Draws were ripped open and some files had been torn from their place on the floor. Whatever he was looking for, he was risking discovery to get it. What was so important that he find?

He slammed the draw shut with such ferocity and strength that I flinched, unable to hide the fear that began to capsulate my heart. My breathing quickened and my fists clenched by their own accord, it seemed my body was more ready to fight for my new life more than my conscious was.

"I could ask you the same question, Emily." He spat my name like it was a bad taste on his tongue. I winced but maintained by stance, I would not back down to a man the likes of him.

"I'm picking something up for my father." I lied easily, narrowing my eyes. He laughed darkly and took another step closer to me. I retreated behind the desk, wanting to keep something solid between his hands and my neck.

"We both know that is a lie." As if it were a game, he spoke to me like a child; high pitched voice, singsong tone. I clenched my teeth to keep myself from lashing out and breaking my cover.

"No it is not." I spoke clearly, trying to seem strong and composed. "My father doesn't want me around here anymore and I am picking up the last of my stuff for him, and a few case files he needs." I let some of the truth sink into my words so he would believe me. But it didn't seem that the truth was swaying him. There was something he wanted from me; I didn't know whether it involved information or my head on a pike.

He shook his head and began laughing. It was a dark, menacing thing that drove shivers down the back of my spine and caused the hairs on my arms to rise. Any warmth from the air was gone, sucked away by his black hole of an existence. My fingers twitched and I longed to hold something sharp in my hands; something I could defend myself with, if it came to it.

"You really expect me to believe you, after all you've done?" He spoke between breaths and then continued to laugh. I stood frozen in a mixture of terror and confusion as he slapped his legs and reduced himself to giggles. "Ah, you amuse me, Emily, you really do."

"I don't know what you are talking about." I said honestly, quietly moving my hands around the papers on the desk in search of the scissors.

"Well of course you do!" He said, throwing his arms out wide with an obscure smile. In that moment, he could only be described as the Cheshire Cat, lips drawn from ear to ear, eyes wide and insane, and a dangerous confidence in his form. "A little birdy told me you have quite an interest in the prisoners that are held in this facility. You even went as far as to call one your little Uncle! How sweet, right?"

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I really didn't know what he was talking about, but I didn't know what other information he had gathered on me and from whom. I didn't understand the severity of the information he held; George was dead, there was nothing he could do about our relationship in the past. It wasn't as if it were illegal for me to talk and socialise with the prisoners, it was just frowned upon. So what was his problem?

I didn't answer his rhetorical question; I just stared at him with narrowed eyes, wondering what his angle was.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know what you are doing with this man." He growled and slapped a security photo onto the table.

It was a screen shot taken by one of the security cameras, and although dark, it showed Vans' and myself sitting alone on a cafeteria table. We were laughing, heads thrown back at something one of us had said, and one of his hands was placed over mine. I ran a finger down the image of his face and tried to keep myself from smiling. I couldn't remember exactly when it had happened, but I knew that he had made me happy in that photograph. I had to stop myself from imagining a future album filled with the photos of our happiest memories. Those moments would come later, after I addressed the seething man in front of me.

"I'm not doing anything with 'this man'. He is a prisoner." I pushed the photo back to Chris Welsh, hoping I would not infuriate him further. "It's standard practice that I talk to all of the prisoners here when doing my investigative work. He was helping me with information on one of the cases my father wanted me to keep track of." I said honestly, keeping eye contact with the man to make sure he believed my words.

"You were not just talking with this man." He snorted, a sneer scrunching up one side of his face. "You have been seen with him on several occasions and it seems you are getting quite close. Someone has voiced their...concerns in the matter. So, enlighten me, when do you exactly intend to stop talking to this man? Or did you never intend to stop?"

I rolled my eyes and pretended to be irritated to hide the panic that was setting into my veins. Who was watching us? Did they know about our plans? Had they seen us in the hallways?

"Well it is obviously not my father you answer to, or you wouldn't have left such a mess." I gestured around the office, regaining some of my confidence. "So as far as I'm concerned I don't have to answer any of your questions." I tapped my chin and looked at the ceiling. "So I think you better leave now, unless you want to get kicked out of the building for good." I smiled down at him, smug.

Although he may have the upper hand with information, my father was still in charge, and the Welsh boy knew that he would be in deep trouble if he were caught in my father's files ever again. He had already filled his requirement as my fathers 'replacement' while he was injured, so he no longer held any position of authority within the prison. I, however, was still my father's daughter, and whatever I said, the guards did.

"What are you doing with this man?" He yelled, slamming his hands down on the desk. I jumped at his determination, surprised he hadn't backed down. The muscles in his shoulders were tensing as he stared me down, waiting for me to give in to his interrogation.

He underestimated my own determination.

"Guard!" I yelled, smiling wickedly at Chris Welsh. His eyes widened and his hands clenched the table. Just when I thought he might leap over the table and strangle me, a guard appeared in the doorway.

I smiled sweetly at him and gestured around the room.

"As you can see, our friend here has made quiet a mess in my fathers office. Would you mind escorting him out of the building? I'm positive my father will not be happy that someone allowed him in here only to trash the room. But if you make sure he's gone and won't come back, I'll clean the mess up myself, and my father will never know."

The guard was quick to nod and clasp a strong hand onto Chris' bicep. He pulled him out of the room, but the Welsh boy held my gaze until he was out of sight. Something in his eyes made me shiver. His curiosity and determination was dangerous, and it didn't seem like he was going to ever give up the fight.

I turned away from the door and rested my head against the wall. My chest heaved as I drew in a large breath of relief. That was one bump in the road that I hadn't been prepared for. Glancing at the clock, I swore. Lunch had already begun for the prisoners, and that meant that I was behind schedule. I writhed through my fathers draws until I found what I was looking for; the key's to hallway 15.

Hoping to god that Vans had succeeded in hisdistraction, I made my way towards the control room. In there was the MainLocking System to all doors within the prison. The only problem was, it wasalways heavily guarded and there was always someone standing by the switch.     

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Ohmygod guys I was going through my drafts and I realised... WE ARE REALLY CLOSE TO THE END OF THE BOOK. 

I split all my written chapters into 2 on wattpad, but I only have THREE more written chapters to write. HOW SCARY IS THAT. 

This draft is honestly a lot shorter than I originally expected but I'm so happy its almost over! (in a good way) 

I will DEFINETLY DEFINETLY try my hardest and probably will finish this book before my birthday in June! 

I am also thinking at the end of the book I will publish bonus chapters and stuff as I write and more of the Connect the Dots series. I will also be writing alternate endings, as the ending I have now has changed from my original one!

AHH IM SO EXCITED

AND I JUST CANT HIDE IT

Ps. This is a part of a double update :) 

Love you guys! XX

Leave a like and comment your thoughts if you enjoyed! 

xx Charli