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I can’t stand it any longer. I didn’t run away to end up here, and I’mnotmarrying him!
Taking several deep breaths until my brain turns back on, I sit up and study my surroundings. The door, with its horn-shaped handle, taunts me. But determination finally pushes me to get off the floor. I grasp the handle with trembling hands. It doesn’t hurt to try.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I whisper, willing the lock to open. I pull it with two hands and tug. Nothing. I tug harder and harder until I’m yanking wildly at it. But my efforts bring me nothing. Panting, I glare at it, but it won’t budge.
Well, that was worth a shot.
My frustration builds up until I shout at the door as if my anger could break that lock. Dammit. I turn my attention to the windows. The enormous glass panes stretch from floor to ceiling, revealing a vertigo-inducing panoramic view of the city below. I laugh madly. I’m being held captive in a glass box.
My breathing comes in short gasps as the view closes in on me. I stare at the sky as if it’s opening up, threatening to swallow me into the void. Each breath feels like a struggle, and I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Even in my captivity, I’m not given the security of privacy.
Nikolai is right. No one is coming to help.
This gilded cage is suffocating me.
I make my way toward the nearest window casement and push it with both hands, gripping the thin metal.
“Come on!” My voice breaks as I try to lift it out. But it refuses to budge.
I feel for locks with my fingertips, but the surface is smooth. There is no latch to open.
As the minutes tick by, my hope begins to fade. The locks remain locked, and I’m no closer to escaping than when I arrived.
Not even my dad could get me out of this place.
Dad, I think sadly. He must be sick with worry. Oh God. I can picture him crazed, tearing up the roads in his truck, racing into the city and quizzing a confused and frightened Mercy about my whereabouts.
I’ve got to keep trying.
My heart pounds as I stalk over to the last window, hidden behind a voluminous sheer curtain, the only one I haven’t tried because it looks too small to climb out of.
“C’mon,” I whisper, willing the window to open. With trembling hands, I reach out and grasp the slim metal lock. To my shock, it pops open in my fingers. Relief shoots through me as the window slides over, and muggy air floods the room.Finally.I close my eyes and let my small victory sink in.
Outside, the steady points of light from skyscrapers appear impossibly distant. I stick my head out the window, and fear laces into my stomach when I see nothing below me. But there’s a ledge that extends a bit further to a perpendicular wall with a metal ladder.
I have no idea where the ladder goes, but I know that it’s away from here.
Deep breaths. I’m just sneaking out of the house. This is no different than climbing down the trellis in Holtsville. It’s just a matter of scale.
Except if you fall, it’s a long way down.
“What choices do you have, Eden?” I whisper. “You wanna stay here and marry this maniac?”
With that, I push the window wide open, turn around, and wiggle through the small opening. My toe touches a narrowledge.Crap. It’s not only narrow, it’sslippery. Even if I want to, I can’t go back now, not from this bent position. Sliding down, I kick off my shoes as I cling to the side of the building, and the wind whips my hair into my face.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
I scootch over toward the ladder. My heart thumps wildly as I move, one inch at a time, toward it. It feels like it’s taken forever, but slowly, my hand finally grips the rusty bar. I pivot slowly and grab hold, not daring to look down. With another deep breath, I swing myself until my bare foot touches the first rung. I almost scream when I try to take a step down and find nothing but empty air.
With no other choice, I force myself to move up the ladder with adrenaline-fueled strength. Molded concrete presses hard into my ribs, but I hold tight until I can fling my body up and over onto a flat roof.
Suddenly, I find myself climbing over the walls to a Gothic terrace.
Please let this be my way out.
I stand there for a moment, motionless. The sound of my ragged breathing drowns out the howling wind. The wet night air rushes over me like a wave and I gasp for breath, my lungs burning from the effort.
Looking around, I never would have guessed that this terrace could exist here. The moonlight casts eerie shadows on the sooty brick walls that surround the edges. Concrete moldings are shaped into Gothic scrolls and flourishes. The crenelation and parapets give the impression that I’m standing on a battlement,an old stone residence with turrets and towers more befitting a medieval castle than a New York skyscraper.
