Ryan gave her a small smile, tight and trembling. "Good. That is my brave madam."
He looked around again, eyes sharp, assessing the angle, the cracked frame, the pieces of torn metal keeping them suspended. They were hanging by a miracle. One wrong move could break it.
"Madam," Ryan finally said, voice low, "look to your right. The door… it is close to the ground. If we open it, we might be able to crawl out."
Evelyn blinked at the door. It was wedged against the slope, only a few feet from the dirt and leaves below. Close enough to reach. Close enough to escape.
"Can you open it?" Ryan asked.
Her hands shook violently. "I can try."
She reached out, fingers slipping on the blood smeared across the handle. She inhaled, pushed, but nothing happened.
Panic clawed at her chest.
However, she didn't let it incapacitate her. She tried again, grunting through clenched teeth.
"Come on, Eve..." she whimpered. "Please…"
