As I regain my feet, Victor grasps my hand and pulls me to my bedroom door. The alarm is blaring – I’m struggling to think beyond it. He cracks the door open, peeking outside, and slams it shut. “s**t,” he says.
“What?”
“Your fathers Betas, coming down the hall. Quick, Evelyn, is there another way out of this room?” He twists the lock on the door, but I know that won’t hold them long. I’m the obvious flight risk in this house – if there’s an alarm going off, everyone knows it’s for me.
“Um…” my eyes scan my childhood bedroom, which still has its pink four-post bed, complete with gauzy white canopy, and pink flowered wallpaper on every wall. “No,” I breathe, “there’s no other way out. When I look towards my closet, though, I’m struck with an idea. “But we can hide.”
I pull Victor to
