The Gate Opens Inward

Merrit was halfway down the service path when the gatehouse lights came on.

She kept walking. The path ran between clipped hedges and ended at the red-brick wall, where the pedestrian gate sat beside the wider vehicle entrance. Beyond it, the road was empty. She had no bag, no coat, and no plan past getting through.

A man in a dark security jacket stepped out of the gatehouse. “Miss Shaw. You’re expected at breakfast.”

“I’m leaving.”

He glanced at the clipboard in his hand. “You left at six-forty.”

Merrit stopped. “I’m standing here.”

“The transport entry is signed.” He sounded apologetic, as if the paperwork had inconvenienced them both. “I can ask the office to arrange another car.”

“Open the gate.”

“I can’t do that without authorization.”

The register had already done its work. Whoever had filled in her departure had made her a person the guard didn’t have to believe.

Merrit took out her phone. One bar of signal appeared, then vanished. She raised it higher and tried the emergency number anyway. The call failed before it connected.

“I’ll wait here,” she said. “You can tell Maudren I’m waiting for the police.”

The guard didn’t move. He looked toward the house instead.

A small grounds cart came rattling along the service path, driven by Jory. A stack of folded tarpaulins and a wooden crate filled its back. He slowed beside Merrit without looking at her.

“Need that crate out,” he said to the guard. “Fertilizer’s leaking. Smells sharp.”

The guard frowned. “You should have reported it.”

“I did. No one answered.” Jory climbed down and lifted the crate’s lid just far enough for a sour, chemical smell to drift out. “You want it sitting here?”

The guard stepped back from the cart. Jory took a key from his belt and unlocked the vehicle gate. Its heavy panel began to slide aside.

Merrit looked at the opening. The guard had one hand on his radio. Jory kept his attention on the crate, waiting for her to decide.

She went.

The gate was only wide enough for the cart. Merrit squeezed past its rear wheel and crossed onto the road. Her shoulder brushed brick. The guard called her name; Jory dropped the crate, which struck the ground with a hollow clatter.

Merrit didn’t turn around.