Chapter 2
The wind whipped across the twentieth-floor balcony, tangling Leo’s hair as he pressed the glowing phone to his ear. Through the static and the howling draft, Evelyn’s voice finally cut through, tight with sudden, piercing terror.
"Leo? Honey, what do you mean she locked you out?" Evelyn demanded, her tone shifting instantly from grandmotherly warmth to defensive maternal steel. "Where is your mother right now? Put her on the phone immediately."
"She won't answer, Grandma!" Leo sobbed, his small fingers trembling so violently he nearly dropped the device onto the concrete ledge. "She's inside. She's mad because the juice spilled. She closed the heavy curtain and she won't open the door. It's so cold out here!"
Evelyn didn't waste time offering empty reassurances. Living only three miles away in her modest, cluttered brownstone, she knew the layout of Nyah’s upscale building all too well. She knew the property management was notoriously slow on weekends, and she knew the depths of Nyah's unpredictable temper when corporate ambitions clashed with the messy reality of raising a child alone.
"Listen to me very carefully, Leo," Evelyn instructed, her voice dropping into a low, commanding cadence designed to steady a panicked child. "Do not lean against the railing. Step away from the glass door and sit down right by the corner where the brick wall meets the balcony. Pull your knees to your chest. I am getting in my car right now. I have the digital emergency key code for her service entrance, but God help me, if she has that deadbolt thrown from the inside..."
Evelyn trailed off, a muttered curse slipping through her teeth. The line stayed open, the faint sound of car keys jangling and a front door slamming echoing loudly in Leo’s ear.
On the balcony, Leo curled into a tight ball, wrapping his arms around his shins as instructed. The light blue fabric of his pajamas offered almost no insulation against the sharp urban chill. Through the thick sheer curtains of the balcony door, a warm, amber glow still bled outward, proving Nyah was still pacing inside the living room. He could occasionally see the vague, distorted shadow of her tall, striking figure moving back and forth across the fabric, her gestures sharp and erratic.
Ten minutes dragged by like hours. Leo stared down at the dizzying drop between the balcony and the streetlights twinkling far below, his stomach knotting with dread. Suddenly, a heavy, rhythmic thumping echoed from deep inside the apartment—not from the balcony door, but from the front entryway down the hall. Someone was pounding on Nyah’s front door with immense urgency.
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Leo gasped, lifting the phone back to his mouth. "Grandma? Is that you?"
The phone line crackled violently, and then the call suddenly dropped with a sharp electronic beep.
