Two prisoners. One spoon. One way out. They were thirty feet beyond the outer wall when the ceiling groaned.
Corin froze. Liera grabbed his collar.
They had been each other’s phantom accuser—names on a false document, forged by a magistrate who needed two scapegoats. The fates that had condemned them separately had just forced them to crawl through the same narrow dark. They didn’t part ways at the river. They didn’t draw knives. tunnel escape fates entwined