Silent Escape: The Runaway Heiress's Refuge

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 743 | Released on: 22/01/2026

here. It was a bleak concrete island surrounded by cornfiel

and lighting cigarettes. The air outside was da

our hours. She stood near a vending machine, counting the crumpled bills in her pocket

he glass coil. It looked dry and unap

ffee from a styrofoam cup and eating a pack of peanuts. He wasn't looking at her

pled the bag. He glanced over an

looked down at her shoes

llar bill into the slot. He pressed a button

t her. He just walked past her and, without breaking str

k and pulled the package ou

king away, his back

as sugary and artificial, but it tasted like heaven. She at

"Route 402 to Blackwood

on her jeans and m

stopped abruptly. He turned around so fa

, looking up at h

e?" he demanded. His voi

frantically. She wa

machines, and now you're here," Hoyt said, step

s a threat. The idea was laughable-she was a broken girl

nger at the sign above t

looked at the sign, then ba

d. It was a lie, but it was t

know everyone in Blackwo

voice. She reached into her pocket for her notepad, but

," he

r hand still

g her. He seemed to decide she wasn't an immed

aid, his voice cold. "

ler connector bus. Eva waited

row, his back against the corner so he could see t

ck of her head. It was a physical weight, h

pressing down hard. She started to draw the line of his jaw, the anger in his eyes. Drawing was the only

fferent. He wasn't just a monster. He was a guard

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Silent Escape: The Runaway Heiress's Refuge

Zhen Xiang Modern

“I was summoned home from boarding school for a funeral, thinking my family finally wanted me back. I stood in the pouring rain, watching a mahogany casket disappear into the mud, while the silence in my head felt like it was drowning me. That night, I hid behind a tapestry and listened through a vent to my father's study. He wasn't talking about grief. He was talking about "tissue compatibility" and "near-perfect matches" with the family lawyer. They didn't want a daughter; they wanted a donor. My father's voice was devoid of emotion as he discussed "the harvest." My half-sister was dying, and I was the spare part they had been growing for years. They had even removed the lock from my bedroom door so I could never truly shut them out. The realization shattered me. I was just a biological backup plan, a life deemed less valuable than the one they preferred. How could a father look at his own child and see nothing but a heart to be cut out and transplanted? I didn't wait for them to come for me. I stuffed a backpack, flushed my SIM card, and climbed out the window into a thunderstorm. I caught a bus to the middle of nowhere, ending up in a seat next to a massive, predatory man named Hoyt who looked like he'd killed people for less than a seat preference. He pinned my wrist with a grip like iron and growled, "Who sent you?" I couldn't speak to defend myself, but as we rolled into a dying town called Blackwood Creek, I knew one thing for certain. I would rather take my chances with a stranger with a gun than stay another night with the family that wanted me dead.”