Can I clear that distance?
I had this thought early on in my stay at the Grand Hotel di Shitbag. But it was more of a musing thought than anything; I quickly brushed it off as too risky. However… now that I’m revisiting this idea, I might not be giving myself enough credit.
I meander towards the side nearest to our neighbor’s. I know it belongs to Elena. I’ve caught her out here getting some sun a couple of times, but she always hurries back in. Alessandro must have instructed her not to talk to me.
If I made the jump, the door to go inside could be locked.
And I could be spotted by Elena, who would alert the guards.
And of course I’d probably kill myself trying to jump.
So, why am I seriously considering this?
Of all my siblings, I’ve always been the most sensible—unless I’m really pissed off. Max would probably attempt this. Bianca does things without thinking all the time. And I know that my oldest brother, Jack, would try this jump for the thrill of it.
I miss him so much.
Since he’s in prison, and I’m only allowed to call my parents twice a week, I won’t get a chance to talk to him again until I get myself out of this situation.
So, let’s get out of this situation.
I lean against the thick stone railing, focusing back on the task at hand. It’s over a foot in width, so balancing on this thing wouldn’t be a problem. It’s awkwardly short and easy to climb up. Then I peer down at the drop that makes my stomach turn. If I fell, I would probably shatter my legs on impact—assuming I even survived that—and then slide down a rocky cliff for what feels like forever.
Something as simple as a paper cut sends me into a panicked spiral, but heights never bothered me. I’m not like that guy who climbs mountains with no safety gear—I have a normal sense of self-preservation. But I know I could probably suppress this fear enough to jump.
Sitting on the railing is a start. It doesn’t feel too treacherous. Yet.
I rotate ninety-degrees so that I’m sitting with my knees bent towards my chest.
I don’t even know what my plan is at the moment. Am I going to attempt this, or am I getting used to the feeling of being this close to falling? I do my best to shut my mind off and slowly stand up, then face towards Elena’s balcony.
My heart is in my throat. My legs feel wobbly enough to indicate that this would not be a successful jump, and I should get down immediately.
The balcony door on the other side opens, and Elena steps out, a panicked look on her face.
“Don’t,” she says, looking me up and down as her face grows paler. Her appearance looks disheveled, and I question whether she just woke up to the sight of this. I realize now that she could probably see me from her kitchen, assuming her space is set up similarly to Alessandro’s.
It’s clear to me what she thinks my intentions are—and it’s not jumping over to her side. But maybe it’s better for her to think I was upset rather than trying to escape.
“Sorry.” I slowly crouch down, turning so that my feet are safely back on the floor of the balcony. I’m already nervous from looking at that drop, but I play it up and force myself to hyperventilate a little bit.
“You poor thing,” she murmurs. “He’s not as bad as he seems, you know. Alessandro?”
I snort out a laugh, realizing I’m horrible at acting and hiding my emotions.
“You’re his sister, he probably hasn’t shown you his bad side.”
She tilts her head, incredulous. “Has he hurt you?”
“No, but… he’s threatened to gouge out any man’s eyes that looks at me the wrong way.”
This time, Elena snorts. “I’ve seen that side of him. It’s useful, really.”
It’s useful?
What the hell does that even mean?
“I’m going to have to tell him about this immediately,” she says.
