Seventeen
My feet saved me. They hooked themselves round the underside of the window and held me upright until my hands found a hold in a broken brick. I pushed one leg back into Ma’s room, forcing the window open, and sat astride the ledge. It took a while for the adrenalin to stop sparking pain in my nerve endings and for my breathing to calm. And then I felt sick. This was no accident. My hyper-efficient brother had checked the system before we started washing the windows. Besides, the seconds before the pulley fell were taking shape in my mind. I’d seen something in the eaves. A hand, I thought, snaking out, yanking the pulleys and whipping back.
I gulped the air. It was cold. But that was good. Icy air calmed the dizziness. Pushed the panic down to manageable levels. I made myself f
