As I run for the door, my feet slap the hard, cold floors, and I nearly slip on the huge oval rug that takes up most of the room. My shoulder hits the door, and it bursts open. I’m thrown forward, and my hand grabs the doorframe, stopping me from going sprawling on the hard floor as I twist to head for the doors when at the last second, I remember I have to be in Regan’s room for breakfast so I turn in the opposite direction.
The motion throwing me off has me clutching the doorframe, as I swing out the door, nearly slipping over from the split second decision to change direction, when I hear Zeke snarl behind me.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but I don’t risk glancing over my shoulder. I can’t take the risk of it slowing me down. Every second wasted makes it easier for him t
