I snatched my backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and bolted. Out of the bedroom, past frozen Nala and the maid. Down the hall, carpet muffling my steps. Stairwell door—shouldered open. Down. Down. Down. My knees screamed, lungs raw, but I didn't slow. Floor fifteen. Ten. Five. Lobby. Side exit.
I burst into the sunlight, legs trembling, and staggered behind the oak tree. Yanked off the gloves, stuffed them deep in my pocket. Collapsed onto the bench, chest heaving, sweat pouring.
Time resumed.
Birds chirped. Traffic roared. Heat slammed back like a fist.
I exhaled, long and shaky, hands still trembling. "Alright…" I muttered, pulling out my phone. "Now, calling Anotta."
I thumbed Anotta's contact and hit call. One ring. Two.
"It's done," I said the second she picked up. "Call your people."
"On it," she replied, crisp and calm. "Stay put."
