The alley was slick with rain, cloaked in the hush that follows a midnight escape. Esme pressed her back to the brick, heart hammering, breath short. Her cloak hung limp, dripping. The key still cold in her palm.
The boy was already five paces ahead, footsteps soft, sure.
"You're welcome," she muttered, pulling her hood tighter.
He didn't slow.
"Hey." She pushed off the wall, caught up with him, brushing past crates and broken glass. "Where are we going?"
"We're not going anywhere. I am going back home. You should probably do the same," he said without looking back.
Esme blinked. "What?"
"You did your good deed. Congrats. Now go vanish into whatever shadows you crawled out from." He turned the corner without waiting.
She followed.
"You're seriously ditching me? After I broke you out?" She said bewildered.
