She closed the folder with a final click and stood up, smoothing her blazer with precise movements. “The vehicles are already waiting to take you,” she replied, moving toward the door. “I’ll call the drivers. Stay here and don’t leave the room. I’ll be right back to get you.” As soon as the door closed behind the social worker, a heavy silence fell over the room. The triplets looked at each other, their communication transcending the need for words.
Laya, the natural leader, took her fragment of the medallion and held it up. Saesabeleiris immediately did the same, the three pieces gleaming under the cold light of the fluorescent lamps. A tangible reminder of the promise made to Father. “Let’s go now,” Laya whispered, her voice low but filled with determination. “They won’t separate us, we promised Dad.” Isabel, always the strategist, was already scanning the room for escape routes. Her observant eyes quickly spotted a small side door that likely led to a bathroom.
If there was a window in there, they might have a chance. She squeezed Laya’s hand in a silent sign of agreement, her mind already calculating possibilities and risks with a maturity beyond her years. “Through the bathroom door,” Isabel murmured, discreetly nodding. “If there’s a window, we can get out. We have to be quick and quiet.” Iris, though usually the most fearful of the three, now displayed the same resolve in her eyes. The thought of being separated from her sisters was more terrifying than any danger they could face together.
She resolutely wiped away her tears, carefully placing her fragment of the medallion in her dress pocket, making sure it was safe during their planned escape. “I’m scared, but I’m even more scared of losing you,” Iris confessed, her voice trembling slightly as she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. “Where will we go next?” There was no time to plan beyond the immediate moment. With an almost imperceptible gesture, Laya signaled to her sisters, and the three of them rose simultaneously, moving with the natural synchronicity of those who had shared the same space since before birth.
They crossed the room in silence, their light footsteps almost inaudible on the worn linoleum. Laya carefully opened the side door, revealing, as they expected, a small staff bathroom. The tilt-up window above the toilet was narrow, but wide enough for seven-year-old girls to squeeze through. Isabel, ever practical, immediately pushed the toilet seat down and climbed on top of it, testing whether the window opened. To her relief, though rusty, the hinges gave way with a soft creak.
From outside, she could see the hospital’s outer courtyard and beyond, the street and freedom. “It’ll work,” Isabel whispered, her calculating tone bringing confidence to her sisters. “I’ll help you climb up, and then you pull me up from the other side.” Laya nodded, helping Iris up onto the toilet first. Being the lightest and most agile of the three, Iris managed to squeeze through the narrow opening with relative ease, though her dress caught momentarily on the window frame.
From outside, she grabbed the sill and then jumped to the lawn below, landing on her knees but quickly getting up. Isabel held Laya’s hand, supporting her as she went next. “Quickly,” Isabel urged, hearing distant footsteps in the hallway. “I think they’re coming back.” Laya squeezed through the window with more difficulty than Iris, her slightly more robust body requiring awkward contortions to get through the narrow opening. For a terrifying moment, she was caught at the waist, but with a determined pull, she managed to free herself, landing beside Iris on the lawn.
Immediately, the two positioned themselves under the window, extending their arms to help Isabel out. Isabel, the last to escape, had just climbed onto the toilet when she heard the front doorknob turning. Without time to hesitate, she threw herself out the window with force, ignoring the scratch of the rusty metal on her arms. Haya and Iris grabbed her hands, pulling with all the strength their small bodies would allow. When the bathroom door opened, Isabel was already out, only her feet still visible at the window.
“Come back here!” the social worker shouted. Her normally controlled voice was now shrill with alarm as she realized too late that they had run away. “Stop! You can’t get out on your own.” The triplets didn’t wait to hear more. Hand in hand, forming an inseparable chain, they ran across the hospital courtyard toward the side door that led to the street. Their short legs moved in perfect sync, driven by both fear and determination. They didn’t know where they would go or how they would survive, but they were absolutely certain of one thing.
