The room was dark except for the city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Alyssa,” Ethan said quietly. “Stop.”

She didn’t turn around.

Her hands were braced against the glass, palms flat, as if the only thing keeping her upright was the cold certainty of the city below. Traffic glimmered like veins of fire. The world kept moving, indifferent to how close everything inside her was to breaking.

“I didn’t ask you to come,” Alyssa replied. Her voice was calm—too calm.

Ethan closed the door behind him, the soft click sounding louder than a gunshot in the silence. He took a few steps closer, careful, like approaching something wounded and...