Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Chapter 401

The mice seemed to have a phobia of entering other spaces. After Stella made her escape, they just peered through the cracks, as if they were watching a horror movie they were too scared to star in.

The walls of the room shifted again, sealing off the way we had come. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, like a butcher's shop at the end of a long day.

Colin, poor guy, looked like he was running on fumes... Battling non-stop for what felt like an eternity, he was about to crash.

"Phoebe..." I approached him, and he looked up at me, exhaustion etched deep in his eyes.

I didn't say anything, just ruffled his hair, trying to offer a bit of comfort.

Colin tensed for a moment, swallowing hard, his gaze heating up as he looked at me.

"Take a break. I've got us from here," I whispered, my voice low, and turned to survey the room.

Pushing himself off the floor, Colin moved slowly towards the wall. "I've got a plan. There are 187 rooms on this floor, with the exit smack in the middle. We're currently due north."

I nodded, sketching a map of the maze on the wall with the blood that was, unfortunately, in ample supply.

"The last room with the mice had a map of the maze. It's like it's burned into my brain..."

"We're here," I pointed to our location on the north side. "The maze shifts every ten minutes, but the overall layout remains the same. We can't wait for it to shift on its own; we need to find the mechanism that opens the wall we need."

the center. The straightest path was

whispering, "Phoebe... You memorized the maze

bothering with

you know about the ten-minute shifts without

Minus a small margin of error, it rounds to about ten minutes." Stella looked at me, speechless

the wall, remained quiet,

shifts every ten minutes, clockwise," Colin's

way through

tell north from south in this cage?" Stella asked,

pitch black everywhere, with no

by

our

do

the eighteenth floor lets through a sliver of sunrise. From

long have you been awake?" I frowned, reaching out to touch

were red, bloodshot from exhaustion or stress, it was hard to tell. He seemed nervous, almost

swr

bit. Trust me," I whispered,

the hem of my

seemed he was seeking reassurance.