Aubree hard i

lid wood door slammed shut beh

ic

e lock turning echoed

the door, slamming her

Let me out!"

ound of his heavy footste

door to the floor, her soaked night

he door, the muffled voic

phone. Mr. Phillips' private jet is preppe

like a physical blow. Sh

abbed her phone. The screen lit

wo hours. There was no time to w

nch windows and yanked the

locked onto the sturdy ivy trellis bolted to the

lled open her closet and grabbed a black hoodie and tight jeans. She shoved he

open. The freezing win

over the sill, and grabbed the wet iron

refully lowered her foot onto the n

her. Halfway down

ody d

own on the iron bar, knuckles turning white. Flakes

n, and climbed faster. When she was abo

in the soft, m

tayed low, using the dark bushes as c

s in the main guardhouse, si

ed over the low stone wall and

out her phone and opening the Uber app,

led up. She yanked the door open a

pper East Side. Please hu

eaked window. Aubree didn't wring her hands; she sat

garage of the Phillips building. Aubree threw a hu

veral men in black uniforms were loadin

doors was Kai Bishop, E

straight

n mud, her hair a wet mess. His eyes

physically blocking