Alejandro is gaining momentum. You can hear it in his voice now, which no longer sounds flattering, but decidedly commanding. “You are completely confused! Lucía, stop this immediately!”
Confused.
The word unleashes something wild inside you.
He has been doing this to you for months. Under the influence of drugs, sleep deprivation, and on top of that making you believe that you cannot trust your own memory. Anger paralyzes your legs. You run into the back hallway and slam the chapel door so hard that it slams against the wall.
The small room smells of wax and damp cedarwood.
A flash of lightning shoots through the narrow stained-glass window above the altar and casts a brief, sharp light on the crucifix. You gasp for breath. You slam the door shut and pull back the iron bolt, even though you know it won’t be able to bear Alejandro’s weight for long.
The altar.
You fall to your knees, feeling absurd, desperate, and terrifyingly alive, and you let your trembling fingers slide under the sculpted edge.
There.
A kulcslyuk.
You press the brass key.
The chapel door vibrates at the first knock from the outside.
“Lucia!” Alejandro’s voice echoes nearby. “Open this door!”
The key gets stuck and only then turns.
There is a clicking sound under the floorboards.
The altar slides a few centimeters to the side on hidden rails, revealing a square opening underneath and stone steps descending into the darkness.
You stare for far too long in the blink of an eye.
Then the door behind you slams against the handle with a hard bang.
You grab the candlestick from the altar, squeeze through the opening, and pull the altar out from under you with all your frantic strength. It moves just enough to block the entrance, precisely at the moment the chapel door flies open above you. Thick darkness envelops you. For a few seconds, you hear nothing but your own gasping and the muffled sound of Alejandro pacing through the chapel above you.
Then there is a silence.
He didn’t see the opportunity.
