Hmmm.... will try to dress up my writing a little more for chapter 19. (I scrutinize my writing ALOT... maybe too much🤦‍♀️) I'll do my best to not apologize so much, but if I dont like How a chapter turns out, be warned. (I'm trying not to, [@Saraina] ; I REALLY am!) Blessings, A. R. P.s. here is something I CAN apologize about: if this has typos! Lol -----------------------------------------------------------      The Commandant was talking with Dylan in hushed, urgent tones in the corner of the room, and Dylan looked just as worried as him.      Laurel shook her head and turned away, trying to calm down. The commandant? A part of the resistance? How?      She tried to understand it; she tried to understand everything. How would she keep this secret from her mom? How would she be of any help to the Cause? What did the Tunneler, Dylan, and her dad think she could do? And what did the Commandant have to do with the Cause?      Laurel sighed, trying to brush her anxious thoughts away. Right now, all she had to worry about was getting home and telling her mom she was working late. That is, if she believed her...      “Laurel,” a voice said. Laurel jumped and turned around.      Dylan.      Glancing over his shoulder, Laurel saw the Commandant enter the tunnel and leave.      Dylan gave her a perplexed look.      “Everything alright?” He asked. Laurel blinked, wondering if he knew she had seen who he was speaking to.      Dylan had told her he had a friend in a position of leadership. She never would’ve expected it to be the Commandant.      “I think so, just trying to understand everything,” Laurel answered, finally meeting his gaze.      He didn’t look convinced but didn’t press the matter.      “You ready to go?” He asked. Laurel shrugged. Why was she acting so indifferent all the sudden?      “You sure you’re alright?” Dylan asked, raising his eyebrows at her.      Laurel sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know, Dylan. I just… everything is so muddled, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to balance everything. Work, helping at home, and working for the Cause. I don’t want to slip up.”      Dylan studied her for a few seconds, saying nothing. It made the quiet room even more uncomfortable. Laurel fought the urge to run to the tunnel and go home.      “Do you regret becoming a part of the resistance?” He finally asked, his blue stare sending a chilling sensation down her spine.    Laurel stared back at him, her heart pounding, the flame she carried inside burning bright. So bright, she wondered if he could see it in her eyes.      “No. I don’t regret it; I can’t. It’s the only thing I can hold onto and fight for, and I’ll fight until I can no longer stand,” she answered, her tone determined.      The corner of Dylan’s mouth twitched slightly and his gaze softened. He straightened up and folded his arms, looking amused, but also convinced.      “Your dad was right when he said we needed you. He would be proud of you,” he said, his voice low and gentle.      His words caught Laurel by surprise, but it also made her feel good. Good that her father would be proud of her, and good that Dylan admitted it himself.      She gave him a small smile, trying hard to not blush. “Thank you.”      Dylan nodded and looked across the room. Turning back to Laurel, he nodded again. “Let’s go.”        Not a word was spoken by either of them as they made their way through the streets of the lepers district. The air was cold and close, and Laurel was grateful for the cloak Dylan had given her.      He led the way, weaving through different streets and alleys as they somehow made their way to the entrance and exit of this special place.      Laurel looked up at the sky and frowned when she didn’t see any stars. She almost expected them to be there; but they weren’t. Could it be a sign? A sign that something or someone she needed would be there one day, and be gone the next? Such a notion made her blood turn cold, colder than the mountain air that continued to curl its chilly fingers around her.      “Laurel,” Dylan whispered. She looked up and jogged to catch up to him, looking ahead to the gate right in front of them. But Dylan stopped and pressed against a stone building, motioning her to do the same.      Laurel quickly pressed against the wall and looked up at him in the dark, trying to decipher where his eyes were, and what they were watching. She finally gave up, scolding herself for acting so… ridiculous? She didn’t know what to call it.      His breathing sounded rapid, and Laurel wondered what was wrong. She opened her mouth to speak when he raised his hand. Laurel slowly turned, glaring at him. He glared right back at her, pressing a finger to his mouth. Laurel wanted to say something very unladylike when she heard voices. She froze, her fur raising and her heart nearly stopping.      “You sure you saw someone out here?” A voice asked, sounding perturbed.      Another voice cursed. “I’m not blind, sir! I swear I saw two rabbits run across the gap. I’m not dumb enough to-" he was cut short with a sudden thump and he groaned. Laurel knew instantly that someone had landed a fist into his gut. How powerful a fist, she didn’t know; and she didn’t want to risk finding out.      Dylan slowly moved his arm, then pointed to the left of where they stood towards the alley. Laurel met his gaze and slowly nodded, inching her way as quietly as she could to the cover of the alley and away from those two soldiers.      Once she thought she was far enough away to stop, she did. Turning around, Laurel faced the alley she had just entered and was relieved to see Dylan following. He hastened his pace and gripped her arm, pulling her along. His grip was tight, and Laurel wanted to pull away. But she realized with a grimace that it was due to the fact that he had nearly been caught by his co-workers. What would happen to him if he was found out? She didn’t want to know, not now; not when they were still so dangerously close to being discovered.      Dylan turned left again, this alley smaller than the first. Laurel thought the walls were too close; she didn’t like how this roadway was almost as wide as her shoulders; she liked more space than this place offered.      Suddenly, Dylan halted and shouldered open a door, dragging Laurel in behind him. Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against it, trying to slow his breathing. Laurel was amazed to see him so worried and relieved in such a short amount of time. She thought he was just a tough lieutenant with an extra job. But, she remembered, he wore many different masks. And now, so did she.    Laurel looked around the room and was surprised to see a few lamps already lit. The room was small, but it was comfortable and relatively safe for the time being.      Laurel ran a hand over her mouth, trying to remain as calm as possible. She had been scared, yes; but she didn’t realize she was trembling until now.      “What,” she began, swallowing, “what would’ve happened if we got caught?” She asked.      Dylan looked up at her, shutting his eyes for a moment, then opening them again.      “Trouble. I could be tried for treason, resulting most likely in an execution. You would probably be taken to prison and tortured till Vitton gets the truth out of you.” He explained, going to the corner table in the room and pouring some water out of the pitcher into two cups. He handed one to Laurel, then downed his whole cup in one gulp.      Laurel involuntarily shivered. Such a blunt fate. But it was accurate. That was how Morbin and the Administration dealt with troublemakers.      Troublemakers like them.      She looked up at Dylan, worry twisting inside her. “How much of a risk are you at, being a part of the Cause?” She asked.      He gave her a sharp look. “I would think even you would know,” he answered, his tone strangely gruff. Laurel stiffened, her temper flaring. Did he really just give her a snooty comment?      “I do know, lieutenant.” she hissed, glaring at him. “But I’d like to know if I’m the one putting you at a greater risk.”      Dylan stiffened when she said ‘lieutenant,’ but he no longer looked angry. He looked more distracted and worried.      “Laurel, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken like that; yes, I’m at risk because I am a part of the Longtreader administration. And no, you aren’t putting me at risk, but…” he trailed off, grimacing.      “But…?” Laurel prodded, feeling more and more puzzled.      “But I’m worried that I might be the one putting you at risk.”