The days that followed were a blur of whispers, clandestine meetings, and mounting tension. Moxie found herself constantly glancing over her shoulder, her senses heightened by the looming danger. It was as if the very air around her had thickened with the weight of secrets. She had become part of a plan, a rebellion that could cost her everything—and the thought of it thrilled and terrified her in equal measure.
Riley, ever watchful, had not left her side. His protectiveness was both comforting and suffocating. He warned her of the risks, of what could happen if they were caught, but Moxie was resolute. There was a new determination in her eyes, sparked the moment Elise had recruited her. She had to take a stand, no matter the cost.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting eerie shadows through the narrow windows of the school, Moxie and Elise met in the laundry room. It was one of the few places left where they could talk without prying ears. The rhythmic hum of the machines enveloped them, creating a barrier of noise that masked their hurried conversation.
"Is the message ready?" Moxie asked, her voice a mere whisper as she glanced over her shoulder. The room's dim lighting cast long shadows on the walls, giving the space an almost claustrophobic feel.
Elise nodded, carefully extracting a small, crumpled piece of parchment from the sleeve of her dress. "Yes, it's all set," she confirmed, her eyes flicking nervously to the door. "The plan is to pass it to the driver during the convoy's stop. It has to be subtle. If the guards even suspect something, we're done."
Moxie took the parchment, her hands trembling as she held the delicate slip of paper. It seemed so small, so fragile, yet it contained the hopes of everyone trapped within the school's stone walls. "What if the driver turns on us?" she asked, the anxiety gnawing at her insides.
"It's a risk we have to take," Elise replied, her tone unyielding. "He's been working with the resistance for months. He knows what's at stake. We've vetted him as thoroughly as we could."
Moxie nodded, though her mind raced with all the ways this could go wrong. She folded the parchment, tucking it into the pocket of her skirt. "When does the convoy arrive?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
"Two days," Elise said. "Until then, we need to blend in. No changes in behavior, no unusual conversations, and definitely no unnecessary interactions with the guards. Understood?"
"Understood." Moxie turned to leave, but Elise grabbed her arm. Her grip was firm, her eyes hard with warning.
"Be extra careful," Elise whispered. "The warden's been acting strangely. I think she suspects something."
Moxie shivered at the mention of the warden. She had noticed the woman's piercing gaze following her more often, as if she were a mouse under the watchful eye of a hawk. "I'll be careful," Moxie promised, though her heart hammered in her chest at the thought of being caught.
The next two days crawled by with agonizing slowness. Every minute felt like an eternity as Moxie tried to go about her usual routine. She scrubbed floors, folded laundry, and attended classes, all the while acutely aware of every glance and movement around her. The warden's presence was like a dark cloud hanging over her, a constant reminder of the peril they faced.
Riley, sensing her distress, pulled her aside during a break in their duties. "You're too tense," he muttered, his eyes scanning their surroundings to ensure they were alone. "You'll draw suspicion if you keep this up."
"I know," Moxie whispered back, biting her lip. "But how am I supposed to act normal when everything could fall apart at any second?"
He sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You have to. Think of it as a role you're playing. You're an actress now, Moxie. And your life depends on how well you perform."
She nodded, drawing in a shaky breath. "You're right. I can do this."
Finally, the day of the convoy arrived. Moxie awoke with a feeling of dread clenching her stomach. Outside, the grounds buzzed with activity as guards prepared for the arrival. Moxie peered through the dusty window of her dormitory, her heart hammering at the sight of the approaching convoy. Dust billowed in the air as the carts rolled into the courtyard, escorted by several guards.
"Elise, the convoy's here," Moxie whispered, finding her in the dining hall. They huddled in the corner, pretending to chat about trivial things as they watched the guards inspecting crates and supplies.
"Wait for the right moment," Elise instructed, her eyes never leaving the convoy. "You'll have only a few seconds to pass the message. Make it casual, like you've done this a hundred times."
Moxie nodded, feeling sweat slick her palms. This was the moment they had prepared for. She glanced over at Riley, who gave her a barely perceptible nod. He was close by, ready to cause a distraction if things went awry.
As Moxie approached the convoy, her heart pounded so loudly she feared the guards would hear it. The driver, a burly man with a grizzled beard, was in the middle of a heated discussion with one of the guards. Now. It had to be now.
Pretending to stumble, Moxie caught herself against the side of the cart. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking up at the driver. In that split second, she slipped the folded parchment into his hand, her movements quick and seamless.
"Watch where you're going," the driver grunted, but his eyes flickered with understanding. He tucked the message into his coat as he continued his conversation, never breaking character.
Moxie forced herself to walk back to the dining hall, her legs feeling like jelly. Elise was waiting, her face pale with worry. "Did you do it?"
"It's done," Moxie replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Good," Elise sighed, relief washing over her. "Now, we wait."
Hours later, when the convoy finally departed, Moxie watched it vanish through the gates, carrying their message into the unknown. She felt a strange mixture of fear and hope. They had done it. Now, it was out of their hands.
But their relief was short-lived. That evening, during dinner, the warden appeared in the hall. Her arrival sent a chill through the room, silencing the chatter. The girls sat rigidly, avoiding her gaze as she stood at the front, surveying them with cold, calculating eyes.
"There has been… unusual activity today," the warden announced, her voice smooth yet laced with menace. "I would advise you all to remember your place. Any deviation from the rules will result in severe consequences."
Moxie's blood ran cold. Did she know? Was this a warning, or was the warden fishing for a reaction? She kept her eyes fixed on her plate, willing herself to remain calm.
The warden's gaze swept the room, lingering on Moxie for a heartbeat longer than comfortable. Then, with a curt nod, she turned and strode out, leaving a wake of fear and uncertainty.
"Elise," Moxie hissed, once the warden was out of earshot. "Do you think she knows?"
Elise shook her head, though her face was pale. "I don't know. But we need to be extra cautious from now on. The slightest slip could ruin everything."
Moxie nodded, her stomach churning. They had crossed a line, set events in motion that could not be undone. Now, all they could do was wait and hope that the driver would deliver their message to the right hands.
Outside, the night descended, draping the school in darkness. But within its walls, a fire had been lit—a fire fueled by the hope of freedom, and the courage to defy an empire.