?Chapter 2817:


    Locke had been counting the days, ticking them off on his fingers.


    Savannah’s n was carefullyid out. Every Wednesday around noon, a delivery of supplies entered the school through the west gate. The gate stayed open for about half an hour—sometimes an hour. That would be their chance.


    But Locke’s cooperation was essential. Without it, nothing would work. Luckily, Locke had agreed to go with her.


    Wednesday arrived.


    After lunch, the children were guided by their teachers to the dormitory for their midday nap. Each child had their own room, and the teachers escorted them to their respective quarters.


    Lockey obediently as the teacher tucked him in.


    “See youter, Locke.”


    “See youter,” he echoed, closing his eyes dutifully.


    The teacher left to tuck the next child in, shutting the door behind her.


    Lockey still, waiting.


    Once the hall fell silent, he opened his eyes, slid out from under the nket, and tiptoed to the door.


    He knew the schedule well. Teachers patrolled at set intervals. After a year here, he had memorized every routine.


    ess to the room was secured by a fingerprint scanner, programmed for only the student and their teachers.


    The administrator also kept a backup key.


    Locke pressed his small finger against the scanner. The door unlocked with a soft beep, and he slipped into the hallway.


    The main exit was impossible—an administrator was always stationed there. But there was another way: a passage that led to the rear exit.


    At midday, cleaners pushed carts stacked with dirtyundry and used uniforms through that passage. Savannah had told Locke to use that moment.


    Cautiously, Locke moved forward, his hands clenched into fists as he followed the passage down to the ground floor.


    ?????????????? ???????????????????? ???????? g???????ν??????﹐?????


    Carts were already lined up.


    Without hesitation, he climbed into one, tucking himself deep beneath the linens. His small frame let him disappear without the slightest struggle.


    He held his breath and waited.


    Momentster, the cleaner scanned their fingerprint and pushed the rear door open.


    They moved the carts out one at a time. When the worker turned to fetch another cart, Locke seized his chance—he darted out and ran, his heart hammering, straight toward the west gate.


    Locke crouched behind nearby shrubs, catching his breath, his eyes fixed on the still-closed gate.


    But then—


    “Locke?”


    Locke’s small body trembled as he spun around. His eyes widened in disbelief at the little girl standing there.


    “Joy?”


    How did she get here?


    Joy had been following him. Lately, Locke had been acting too strangely for her to ignore.


    .


    .


    .