The corridor was colder than I expected. The air carried a faint metallic smell, like something that had been waiting too long to be used. Ricardo moved with certainty, guiding us through the narrow path as if he had walked it a hundred times in his mind.
“Where does this lead?” I whispered.
“Out,” he said simply.
Behind us, a sudden thud echoed through the wall.
They had realized.
Mateo’s voice—no longer calm—shouted something I couldn’t make out. Lidia followed, sharper, frantic now. The sound of something heavy being dragged. Then banging.
They were trying to get in.
But they couldn’t.
Because they didn’t know where to look.
Ricardo stopped at the end of the passage and knelt again, sliding a second hidden latch. A narrow door opened outward, and a rush of cool night air hit my face.
