The moment I hit the ground, white-hot pain shot through my left ankle. I heard something crack—a sound that would haunt me later. But there was no time for pain. I scrambled to my feet and tried to run.
I collapsed immediately.
My ankle screamed with every micro-movement, the agony sharp enough to steal my breath. I tried again. And again. Each attempt ended the same way—face-first in the dirt.
But I was out of time. The jump had been loud. People had noticed.
"Did she just—Alberta jumped from the second floor! Has she completely lost her mind?"
The voices drifted down from above. If they'd heard, so had Denys.
I looked up.
There he was, framed in Maureen's window, staring down at me. His brow furrowed, jaw tight. Then he ripped the curtain aside with barely contained fury and vanished from view.
He was coming.
I forced myself upright, biting back a scream as I hobbled toward the front gate. Every step was glass and fire, but I kept moving. I had to.
A taxi appeared at the end of the street—a small miracle. I threw my hand up, waving frantically. The car slowed, pulled over.
I was wrenching the door open when Denys's shadow fell across the entrance behind me.