The women headed to work in the mansion and the kitchen, while the two guards stood before the dog cages.

  "Ah, I’m excited to see my wife and kids when that scruffy fellow, Hank, returns from his business trip," the first guard sighed.

  "Me too," the second laughed. "I haven't seen my mother and brothers in a year."

  "I just hope he doesn't notice that half the slaves the Master bought last time are dead," the first guard crossed his arms.

  "Of course he’ll notice, but we have a strong excuse. They’re all from the last batch—bad stock. I’ve ordered the other guards to tell him they died from overwork if he asks."

  Even though Alison was some distance away, she heard every word.

  In the kitchen, Alison washed and dried the dishes alone. The silence was heavy, pressing against her ears and Bertha’s, as the older woman cleaned the surfaces and checked the soup. Bertha approached Alison and stood before her for a moment before pulling her into a hug. "I’m sorry," Bertha whispered, her voice cracked with tears. Alison didn’t resist the embrace, but she didn’t stop working either.

  When the morning shift ended, Alison asked Bertha to let her return to the mine. She worked with her eyes fixed on the long-haired man: Roy. He was the reason Hannah and several newcomers were dead. Now, only he, Alison, Sasha, Berthold, and Ivan remained.

  Roy suddenly stopped working, shifted his position, and stood before Alison.

  "Hello. I saw what happened to you the other day... I’m truly sorry for your suffering," his voice was soft, feigning kindness.

  She turned to him slowly, her face contorting again into that haunting, crooked smile. "Th-th-thank you for your c-c-concern."

  Roy’s eyes widened. A chill ran down his spine, and he immediately backed away from her. Alison watched him from the corner of her eye until he vanished into the shadows of the tunnel.

  Alison didn't just collect her quota; she gathered every bit of coal she could, working until her breath failed and she sank to her knees. The day passed like any other—guards kicking those who lagged, and Mia’s body in the cage becoming nothing more than waste in a corner, her name forgotten by everyone except Sasha and Alison.

  At night, Alison silently traced the long cracks in the floor, her body trembling with every breath, the ground wet beneath her face.

  "So... I want to hear stories about Harold and Mary," Sasha smiled weakly at her.

  Alison wiped her face and told her of their last adventure. Sasha fell asleep to the sound of Alison’s voice, and eventually, Alison herself drifted off mid-sentence.

  In the days that followed, Alison searched for any exit, any gap, any weakness. She found nothing.

  With the melting snow, the scents in the mine began to change; the smell of damp earth mixed with the sharp odor of coal. It was time for the seasonal cleaning.

  "Hey, you! Go clean the storehouse," a guard pointed at Alison. She left her pickaxe and followed him. He sat down to rest while she worked. After finishing the interior, she went outside to clear the debris of winter and autumn.

  In a neglected corner near the tool shed, she spotted the "Winter Rose" (Hellebore). Immediately, memories of Harold and his warnings about this plant flooded back. Without turning her head, she watched the guard out of the corner of her eye. She leaned down slowly, pretending to clean. With fingers cracked from labor, she dug into the soil around the black, sap-filled roots. She didn’t take the flower; she took the roots and lower stems, hiding them between her toes to escape the guard’s notice.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  When he turned away, she snatched the roots and hid them in her clothes. That night, she tucked them into a small crevice behind a loose stone in the shack’s wall.

  Sasha noticed. "What is that?"

  "It's H-h-hellebore. It causes d-diarrhea and severe s-stomach pain if the d-dose is right."

  Sasha smiled. "Excellent! What does it look like? I want to gather more."

  "The f-flowers usually have five p-petals, mostly white with large y-yellow stamens in the center. The leaves are d-dark, tough, and feel like l-leather. Most importantly, the r-r-roots are black, as you see." Alison pointed to the root.

  "Right. How much do we need?" Sasha asked.

  "As m-much as we can g-get." Alison knit her brows, staring at the roots. To them, they looked like gold.

  "I’m sorry for calling you a stutterer that day. I was just angry."

  "It’s okay."

  Sasha and Alison used every second they had to observe and gather the roots, remaining hyper-vigilant of both the guards and Roy. Once, while Alison was digging in the mine, she noticed Roy vanish. She turned to Sasha, whose face had gone pale. They waited in silence.

  "Get back to your spot, you little rat!" Roy was kicked back into his place. No guards came to punish anyone else. Sasha and Alison breathed a sigh of relief. Over the following days, they gathered nearly three handfuls of the roots.

  "Is this enough?" Sasha gazed at the hidden stash.

  "The m-more the b-better, but we’ll m-make do with this," Alison replied.

  "What now?"

  "Now... we tell those we t-trust."

  Night passed. In the mine, Alison approached Berthold when the guard’s gaze shifted. Sasha moved toward Ivan. They both spoke the same words: "Tonight," Strike, "we escape." This time, Alison didn't stutter.

  Berthold and Ivan turned. "What?"

  "We escape t-tonight. Don't worry, you don't have to d-do anything. Just wait for the s-signal. If we fail, you won't be h-harmed." Alison and Sasha added a layer of protective lies. "But if we s-succeed, we are finally leaving this p-place."

  Berthold and Ivan stared at them. "But..." Berthold sighed. "I’m in." Their answers were identical.

  "All you need to do is lead the m-men to the tool room for weapons. We’ll handle the r-rest."

  Roy tried to approach, but by then, the four had dispersed.

  Inside the mansion, Alison watched the kitchen where the guards' food was prepared. Luckily, it was empty. She slipped inside and began chopping the roots. She felt a presence behind her and froze, thinking it was the end. It was Bertha.

  Without a word, Bertha stepped forward, took some roots, and began chopping. Alison’s jaw dropped. They worked together in silence.

  "I won't stay silent anymore. You are young, and life is ahead of you and your friends," Bertha said, turning to Alison.

  They finished and mixed the roots into the food.

  "I hope no one dies from this," Bertha said with a look of concern.

  "D-don't worry, the amount isn't l-lethal," Alison reassured her.

  Bertha smiled. "Now, escape w-with us?" Alison asked, her expression making Bertha chuckle.

  "No. Who will c-clean up the mess if I leave?" Bertha waved her hand.

  Alison smiled back. "Th-thank you, ma'am."

  Time passed. Dinner was served as usual. An hour later, sounds began to erupt from the mansion. Muffled screams, the sound of boots racing toward the latrines, and groans from the officers' quarters. The guard at the shack door was seen sprinting toward the trees, clutching his stomach, dropping the keys in his agony.

  The slaves seized the moment. Alison whistled toward the men’s quarters, and the doors were flung open. Everyone rushed out.

  "N-now, split up! G-get food, blankets, and t-tools!" Alison barked orders.

  Berthold and Ivan led the men to the armory, while the women raided the storehouse for supplies. They moved with an order no one expected.

  Alison stood before Roy. They stared at each other. Roy’s breath was heavy, his eyes wide with terror. Alison’s fist met his face. She beat him relentlessly, knocking out one of his teeth, then dragged him into the shack and locked him inside.

  The crowd watched in silence. Then Sasha began to cheer, and the rest joined in.

  Alison then moved toward the guards, Bert and Merlot—the main authorities in the absence of the Master and Hank. She dragged them toward the dog cages.

  "Please... I want to see my f-family," Bert whispered.

  Alison let go of them, frozen. Her jaw dropped, her tongue felt heavy, and her eyes widened as the guard's words hit her.

  But the other slaves didn't stop. They grabbed Merlot and Bert, shoving them into the cage. The dogs, driven by hunger and rage, tore into them.

  Alison stood for a second before the cage, her heart hammering against her ribs, feeling a wave of nausea. Sasha placed a hand on her shoulder. They locked eyes. "They deserved it."

  Together, they headed toward the gate with the others.

  The mass of people surged through the gates, running toward the dense forest where the grass shimmered under the moonlight. Meanwhile, Bertha stood by the kitchen window, wiping her hands on her apron, watching their shadows fade into the distance.

  "I have a lot of work to do".