The rooftop wind whipped through Nora’s hair, sharp and relentless, as though nature itself was conspiring against her survival. Each gust cut into her exposed skin like icy blades.

She bit her lip, a bitter thought flickering to life. 'Does anyone even realize I’m missing? Or am I on my own here?'

But she shoved the thought aside. If she wanted to make it out of this alive, it was up to her.

Taking a shaky breath, she straightened. "So, if ...