Chapter 3
Ethan paused for a second, then burst into a loud, mocking laugh that echoed through the penthouse.
Vanessa joined in, her shrill laughter filling the hallway like a wave of physical poison.
“She thinks she’s a movie character!” Vanessa cackled, clutching her designer handbag.
“Ethan, your wife has officially lost her mind!”
Ethan shook his head, walking over to the bar to pour himself another double shot of bourbon.
“You always had a flair for dramatic nonsense, Lena,” Ethan said, tossing the amber liquid back.
“Nobody is coming to save you.”
“Your mother died broke, you have no friends, and your diner job barely paid for your own food.”
“I gave you a roof over your head, and this is how you repay my generosity?”
The wall clock in the hallway ticked loudly: 8:02 PM.
Six minutes remaining.
I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing entirely on breathing through the intense physical agony in my waist.
May you like
“Stay alive for eight minutes,” my father’s voice echoed deep inside my mind.
Outside the oceanfront apartment building, the distant sound of screeching tires cut through the rain.
