Chapter 16: A Window To Escape
Lilia perched on the window ledge, her golden-brown eyes fixed downward as she calculated the risk of the fall. Would it break her bones, leave her battered with bruises, or—if luck was on her side—let her escape with little more than an ache?
The cool night air kissed her face, its crispness a stark contrast to the suffocating heat that had gripped her since she stepped into the oppressively grand ballroom earlier that evening.
Her grip on the ledge tightened as a shiver ran through her. Just moments ago, before climbing onto the precarious perch, she'd felt the unsettling weight of being watched. It had been brief—a flicker of awareness that vanished just as quickly as it came—but it left her uneasy. She had dismissed it as a trick of her restless mind.
The ballroom had been too much—too many faces, too many stares that seemed to pierce her skin, and too much noise that drowned her thoughts. It was as though the walls themselves had been closing in, forcing her to make an excuse.
But she hadn't gone to the washroom.
Her heels had clicked against the polished marble as she wandered the labyrinthine halls, her only thought to escape. She searched for air, for quiet, for anything that would take away the oppressive weight crushing her chest. When she reached the large double doors leading to the staircase and the garden beyond, she had been met with an infuriating sight. Locked.
Why would anyone lock doors during a gathering? Frustration bubbled up, her knuckles brushing the smooth surface of the door as if willing it to open. It had been open earlier. She was certain of it. Her fingers trailed along the handles, but it was no use.
Wasn't this the same door her mother had dragged her through earlier to deliver that glamorous slap?
Her eyes had drifted to the window, and a reckless plan began to form in her mind. It wasn't ideal—it wasn't even sensible—but it was her only option.
It wasn't that she wanted to escape the event itself, she reasoned. It was the suffocation she couldn't bear, the stifling heat of too many bodies and too many expectations pressing down on her. Yet, if anyone were to see her now, perched on a ledge with her dress billowing in the soft night breeze, she wouldn't blame them for assuming she was trying to flee entirely.
Her fingers fumbled as she slipped off one of her heels, the sleek shoe glinting faintly in the moonlight. She leaned forward, heart pounding, and dropped it. A muffled thud reached her ears seconds later, muffled but reassuring. It wasn't that far.