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The pouring rain pelted against the stained windows in their rusted white-painted panes. The floors slippery and muddy, Arielle slid her way carefully down the orphanage hallway and into the girls’ dormitory.
“Arielle!” whispered one of the seven girls happily. “I’ve got the key.” She was a short brunette with freckles and glasses, and was wearing a knitted grey sweater over a pale blue nightgown. Her feet were bare.
“Good,” Arielle nodded. “Stacey, have you got the supplies?”
“Bread, check,” Stacey began, “Water, check. Blanket, check. Lantern, check. Extra candles, check. Everyone present?”
The girls nodded their heads in reply. Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“Quick! Jemma croaked. “Sister Lucy!”
Arielle took the key from Stacey and shoved it hurriedly into the keyhole, turning it every way possible. But the little door they had discovered behind the plaster in their room would not open.
Jemma, Stacey, Evangeline, Hazel, Lissy and Ruby panicked. As loudly as they dared, six of them fussed, fidgeted and cried. Arielle just stared at the key.
In an attempt to escape quickly, she gave the door a sharp kick and it creaked open.
She ushered the frightened yet excited girls through the doorway before grabbing the key and ducking under the low frame herself. Even if the nuns did find the girls they wouldn’t be able to squeeze into the tunnel.
Arielle closed the door gently and locked it. The tunnel smelt of dampness and mould, and was pitch black. Ruby lit the lantern. In the dim light Arielle could see her knotted, red hair and freckled face, set with a determined expression.
Evangeline had beautiful locks of long, blonde hair and eyes of liquid grey. Her cheeks were flushed as she half stumbled, half crawled, down the musty tunnel that would lead to their freedom.
Lissy struggled with the weight of the blanket on her back. But still she looked determined. Wearing nothing but a mustard-coloured night-gown and underclothes, she shivered in the cold and wet.
Jemma, who carried the food supplies in a rucksack on her back, scratched the dirt off her nose and pressed her knuckles against the crunching gravel beneath her.
Hazel, the smallest and youngest of all the girls, collapsed, breathing awkwardly, on the gravel. Her soft cries bounced back off the curved walls.
Stacey, who was behind her, whispered in her ear and encouraged her to get up and keep moving.
Arielle felt the key in her hand and placed it carefully in her coat pocket. She kept her eyes focused on the tunnel ahead of her.
The girls carried on, speaking little, for some time, until Ruby, who was in the lead, found a second door. It was wooden like the first one, and judging by Rubys’ struggles, was locked.
“Arielle, pass down the key, please,” she nodded. Arielle passed the key to Stacey, who passed it to Hazel, who passed it to Lissy, who handed it to Evangeline, who gave it to Jemma, until finally it came into the hands of Ruby.
She struggled with the key and the key-hole and finally, after a few long minutes, turned, and shook her head.
“We’ll have to go back,” she sighed. “I can’t open the door.”
Abruptly, Hazel raised her head. “I don’t know if you agree,” she began, speaking clearly, “but on the other side of that door could be my freedom. On the other side of that door could be my way of finding my parents who I know are not dead. I am not turning back.”
She may have been the youngest, but Hazel was not one to be argued with. Arielle nodded her head in agreement. “If the key doesn’t work,” she suggested, “then try and kick it with your foot. It worked with the first door.”
Ruby gave the door a quick knock and sure enough, it opened. She scrabbled over the gravel in a hurry to see what was waiting for them...

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