As usual in Rockwood Detention Facility, Milan’s power of concentration evaporated during class. This time the teacher talked about the decolonization of Britain, again, something he already knew about. He tapped the pen against the table, counting the seconds as they went by. This was the day.

Eli sat with a grin plastered on her face, swinging her legs back and forth. She held out her hand with her thump swinging up at Milan.

Milan turned his head in the opposite direction.

“Okay, everyone,” the educator said. “I want you to get together in two-man teams and discuss the questions in your study book.”

“Teacher!” Milan lurched from the chair. He didn’t even know her name. “We’re odd-numbered. Could Chet work with Eli and me?”

The educator’s glance shifted between Chet, Eli, and Milan. “Y-yes, of course.”

Chet’s lips formed into half a smile as he ambled toward Milan’s table. Eli did the same.

“There’s a breaker room below our cell.” Milan lowered his voice as much as he could. “We can use this to our advantage to switch off the security alarm and electric locks. By switching them off, the locks to the doors will open and we should be able to escape. But before we do that, we have to take everything into consideration.”

“What do you mean?” Eli asked.

“We can’t assume everything’ll work out once we’ve switched off the power. Facilities such as these must have some kind of backup power system, which is a separate device from the breaker box, and I have no idea where it’s placed within this six-floor building.” Milan craned his neck, making sure the teacher wasn’t nearby. “We have to turn that device off first before we can put our plan into motion.”

Chet twirled his finger inside his nose. “As someone who’s been in and outta here, I think I know exactly what device you’re talking about. I’m on it.”

Milan frowned. How could he know about this device just because he’d been ‘in and outta here’? He had to have an ace up his sleeve. Something only Chet could do…

“In any case,” Milan continued. “Even with all these measurements, we still can’t walk off like that. Say we turn off all power successfully, but that’s not enough. We’ll be discovered. That’s why we need a diversion.” He eyed Eli. “The way you started that mess in the cafeteria yesterday shows your potential for creating a huge distraction. You’ll be in charge of that. While the guards are occupied with the other inmates, we’ll slip out.”

“But we don’t got a lotta time,” Eli said. “How’re we gonna make it?”

“It’s simple. We split up.”

Eli and Chet exchanged looks.

“I’ll send you a message with instructions through the vent system in our cell while you stay in the cafeteria, Eli. Chet, you already know what to do once we’re done here,” Milan said. “Meanwhile, I’ll go down to the electrical room, turn off the alarm and lock switches. I’ll climb up to the cell again and leave through the cell door — that should be possible since I’d have switched off the locks. By the time I reach the cafeteria, the distraction should already be in full swing.”

Chet bumped his fist into Milan’s shoulder. “That’s why you need a genius on your team.”

“I’m not a genius.” Milan dusted off his shirt where Chet had touched it.

“How’s it going over there?” The teacher appeared out of nowhere. “Are you done discussing the questions?”

“We still have a couple left.” Milan neutralized his facial expression, trying to pretend as if nothing had happened.

“That’s okay. We’ll continue tomorrow.” The teacher clapped her hands. “Alright, everyone. Class is over.”

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Milan gulped. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes from now, and they’d be free. Those were his thoughts as they were led through the hallway back to the cafeteria by a bunch of officers.

“Here, fella.” Chet spoke in a low voice and glimpsed around the room before handing a folded piece of paper to an officer.

This had to be the officer Chet had something on. He had cold eyes and an oblong face. He looked like a robot.

So, that’s him, Milan thought.

“My last requests,” Chet said.

“Last requests?” The officer’s voice was deep, scratching against Milan’s ears. The kind of voice that was hard to forget once you’d heard it. “What do you mean?”

Milan sent Chet a glare. What a damn idiot.

“Uh.” Chet scratched the back of his neck. “Last requests for today.”

Milan pushed Chet aside before he could give them away. “Officer. I’d like to stay in my cell in my free time.”

He lifted his eyebrow. “This is the only free time you get. Don’t complain later.”

Milan nodded. There was nothing he was more sure of. Before long, the officer locked him inside the same old cell. The same dull walls. The same desk and stool by the corner. The same rusty beds.

And it was the last time he’d see it.

He ripped off a piece of paper and wrote, be ready in five. Then, he took out the bun he’d been hiding in his sleeve ever since breakfast and throughout the entire class. He tore it open, curled the paper inside, and slid it through the vent. The grate was sealed shut when he first discovered it, but with Eli’s help, he’d busted it open this morning.

Milan lifted the floorboards and tied the DIY rope Eli had to remake to the bedframe. And the flashlight. He couldn’t forget the flashlight. He clung his body to the rope, sliding until he reached the ground.

Milan snorted. That was easy. He swung the breaker box open, trailing his finger down the circuit breakers. There were several for the alarm and locks. Milan switched them off and rushed to the rope. The moment he grabbed it, the other end, tied to the bed frame, slithered down and landed with a thud next to him.

Milan’s mouth stood agape. How could this happen? Hadn’t he fastened it strong enough? No, that couldn’t be. It should’ve held his weight. Besides, he didn’t tug at it that hard. It was as if it had come off on its own. Or someone had untied it.

Milan lifted his head to the opening in the ceiling. That someone looked down at him from above.

Chet.

“Sorry, genius,” he said. “Even if you’re the one who came up with the plan, I can’t let murderers who’ve killed their own kin break out.” He chuckled. “Thanks to you, I’ll be free now. I’ll live my life to the fullest while you can rot in here forever.”

Then, his frame vanished from the hole.

Milan dropped the flashlight. His body went numb. He should’ve seen this coming. A recalcitrant anger blazed inward, like fire. He wanted to grab Chet by the throat and squeeze until he stopped breathing. But he couldn’t move an inch. And even if he could, it was too late. Chet would escape and Milan would be caught.

His plan was ruined. Why? How did this happen? Someone had to have told Chet about Milan’s ‘crime’. Was it Eli? Could it be any other than her? No. Eli was the only person who knew.

And Chet. Chet and his idiotic policy about knowing why someone wanted something smuggled in. Milan had trusted him to cooperate. But he’d been right from the beginning; Chet was not to be trusted. Both him and Eli.

His eyes followed the wall to the ceiling. It’d be impossible to climb back up. Besides, the hole was in the middle of the ceiling. There was no way he’d reach. Then, his eyes drifted around the room. Of course. Why didn’t he think of using the door like any other person? The lock to this door had to be electronic too. Being in jail had screwed up his sense of normality.

He twisted the doorknob, but it didn’t open. He did it again. Again, again, again. Made no difference.

Milan slammed his fist on the doorknob. He bolted back to the breaker box, burying his face in the dead front cover. He had switched off all the lock-labeled circuit breakers. Could it be the lock to the breaker room was non-electric?

He switched his glance toward the door and took a closer look. Sure enough, there was a keyhole below the doorknob. Damn it. What now?

His eyes wandered up and down the breaker box, and then they stopped. At the top of the panel, a double pole circuit breaker labeled ‘main’ was switched on. Main… this small switch maintained all the power in this building. If all power was switched off, someone would have to come and check. And they’d have to open the door.

Milan didn’t think twice. He switched off the ‘main’. The small pool of light from the cell above him disappeared and the breaker room drowned in pitch blackness. He switched on the flashlight, slinging the light around. There it was. The wooden box. He turned it upside down, emptying all the contents. Then, he dashed beside the door and clung his back to the wall.

He turned off the flashlight. There, he stood, in the dark, with only his heartbeat thumping in his ears keeping him company.