hands on the top. I bent myleg back in an L-shape and Arden hoisted my featherweight easily. I sat on top of the pillar and unlaced my boots.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I can’t climb with these on,’ I said. ‘I need to feel under my feet.’
I kicked off the boots and swung my leg over a branch that bowed dangerously under my weight. I shuffled along, legs wrapped around it like I was straddling a horse. It levered me up and levelled out as I crawled closer to the main trunk of the tree. Leaves brushed my face and a bird fluttered out of reach. I heard the intake of my own breath each time my foot slipped on the smooth bark—but I never really believed that I’d fall.
Arden was below.
I crossed over to the next tree, the biggest. There, I needed to go up, not just across. There were no decent footholds and I had to perform the monkey-bar swing with my hands.
I felt at ease; all my doubts were without substance and my fear had gone. There was only exhilaration. It gave me extra strength and when I reached the roof of the house, I was smiling, warm, out of breath.
I was grace. I was in control. I was…alone.
When I looked down, Arden had disappeared.
I jumped. The gutter groaned under my weight as I pulled myself up onto the sloping roof. The tiles were dry. Yellow lichen gave me traction as I clambered up and over the pitch.
There were two small windows on the other side. Mentally, I measured the opening of the closest one. I decided that my body and hips would fit, but my shoulders could pose a problem.
Head first, Arden had said.
I pushed the window and it opened without resistance. I put both feet through the opening and shuffled my hips. Once I was halfway through, I saw what she meant. My back was arched to breaking point. I had no force of my own, only gravity to keep me moving. With my arms above my head I was wedged half-in, half-out. The sharp edge of the window frame sliced my back. Sweat formed an icy layer on my skin.
Shit.
Through sheer will, spurred on by the threat of spending the night there, I pressed my shoulder blades together and wiggled them through the space. Near dislocation, my bones stretched the muscles past a point they’d never been before.
I gasped as I slid through, whacked my head on the sill, caught my wrists on the bottom of the window and landed with one foot in toilet water.
The seat was up. I put it down and sat there for a minute until my muscles stopped screaming. Muddy blue puddles pooled on the white tiles as I made my way to the door. I closed it quietly behind me.
I was in a hallway. My feet sank into plush carpet. I could just make out the shape of a doorway in the dark. I turned the handle and felt around for a light switch butI couldn’t find one. I took a few steps, hit my shin against something hard and toppled onto a bed.
When my eyes adjusted, I could make out a tall dresser, side tables, the bed. The room smelled of expensive perfume and furniture polish.
I slid open the first drawer of the dresser. My fingers found satin and lace. I closed it and ran my hands along the top. Glass bottles clinked together and fell. I set them upright and opened the second drawer. There, I found the unmistakable shape of a jewellery box. It was unlocked, half open and spilling over with trinkets.
The first one I touched was heavy, so I figured it was only cheap costume jewellery. I didn’t want to take anything valuable. I yanked and it started a chain reaction; one by one, other necklaces caught and dragged and slithered into a pile on the floor. I ripped the heavy necklace free, scooped the rest up and stuffed them back into the box.
I tried to leave the room as I found it. I smoothed over the creases on the bed and buffed the dresser’s knobs with my T-shirt. In the hallway, I fumbled for the toilet door and turned the handle.
It wasn’t the toilet. It was a bedroom. The faint glow of streetlights bled through the slats of the blinds and I could see a bed.
Kate Baxter
Eugenio Fuentes
Curtis Richards
Fiona McIntosh
Laura Lippman
Jamie Begley
Amy Herrick
Deborah Fletcher Mello
Linda Byler
Nicolette Jinks