“Oh no!” Leah says, but Paige stops her from worrying.

“Just wait,” Paige says. “She picks the lock, and nobody is near by. So she decides to explore the stairway, to see how high it goes, how deep it is, and if there is a way to get outside. When she hears someone coming, she runs back to her small room and locks the door, tucking the tiny wood pick into the braid of her hair.”

“Every day, she explores a little farther, finding new doors, trying new hallways. And then finally…she finds a tunnel.”

“There’s a tunnel?” Leah asks.

“Oh yes. There’s a tunnel. But you only find it if you’re brave enough to look. Delilah was brave, so she found it. She was also getting stronger, because every night, when she would explore, she would run, and have to pull herself up high on walls, crawl through tight spaces, and lift heavy things. When she found the tunnel, she decided she needed to escape the next night, well after midnight, when she knew the guards would be sleepy. But what she didn’t know, was that the prince was coming to save her at the very same time.”

“He was?” Leah asks.

“Yes, he was. When the moon was at its highest, Delilah picked her lock and made her way to her tunnel, crawling through the narrow damp passageway until she felt the cold air from outside hit her cheeks. She kept her body low to the ground, crawling on her belly under fence after fence, through mud, through a thick forest of trees, all the way to the dangerous guard gates and the wall of fire. She’d practiced the timing, and she knew she could get across it if she was careful counting the seconds in-between flames. But when the time was ready for her to run and make her escape, she heard shouting and fighting.”

“Did someone catch her?” Leah asks.

“No. They caught…the prince!” Paige says, and I hear Leah gasp. “Delilah was only one leap away from her freedom, but when she saw the prince was in trouble, she couldn’t leave him.”

“What did she do?” Leah asks.

“She ran through the darkness to the drawbridge. The prince was being tied with rope to the back of a horse, to be led into the witch’s tower for punishment. She looked everywhere for something she could use, something that would help her defeat the guards. There were so many of them, but only one of her. And then she noticed a large barrel of oil. The guards used the oil to keep their torches lit.

“Delilah had grown strong enough, she was able to push the barrel over, spreading the slick liquid all over the bridge in their path. She waited, hidden underneath one of the bridge’s trusses, holding herself with her tiring arms, until she heard the horses begin to walk above her. Careful not to make any sound, she crawled around the bridge’s edge, doing her best to not be seen. The mud that covered her body kept her disguised. Then, she reached into her hair, and pulled out the tiny wood stick, sharp on one end, and she poked the leg of one of the horses.

“The horse leapt up on his back legs, and began jerking wildly, scaring every other horse, which caused many of the guards to lose their balance and drop their torches into the oil. The oil caught fire—igniting the bridge in fiery flames, which frightened the horses even more. They all took off in various directions, including the horse that the prince was still tied to. That horse is the only one Delilah cared about. She followed it, deep into the forest, but didn’t make a sound or let the prince know she was near until she was sure they were far enough away from the others.”

“What happened then?” Leah asks.

“When Delilah felt it was safe, she spoke softly. ‘It’s me, don’t be frightened,’ she said to the prince. He looked around for her in the darkness, and when he saw her, he was so happy. She ran to him, untied him, and hugged him tight, so happy he was safe. He told her that he was trying to rescue her, and she laughed, climbing onto the horse behind him so they could both ride away for their escape. Then, she told him that she wasn’t the kind of girl who needed rescuing, but she’s glad she could save him. And they lived happily ever after.”

Leah’s quiet. So is Paige. I’m pretty sure she’s the princess in the story, and I kind of think Leah knows it too. After a few seconds, I hear her light click off, so I stand, still keeping my back to the wall, my body out of sight.

“Paige?” Leah says.

“Yes, Leah,” she responds.

“I like that version,” Leah says.

I can hear Paige’s steps moving closer to the door, closer to me, and it’s beginning to get harder to breathe.

“Me, too, Leah. Me, too,” she says, stepping through the door and closing it behind her.