Until I Wrote Him
It was quiet, strained, and laced with that bizarre sarcasm that only emerged when she was truly terrified.
“Don’t waste time, Rory! Get ready to shoot! The damn thing won’t…"
“Roman, is the Eiffel Tower now relocated to New York?”
I froze.
The question was so utterly absurd, so jarringly out of place, that it felt like a hallucination.
“Our lives are at stake! Don’t be an idiot!” I barked, frustration overwhelming me.
“I’m not joking,” she insisted, her voice now deadly serious. “Look up.”
I jerked my head away from the useless ignition, my eyes sweeping the skyline beyond the high perimeter wall. My gaze snagged on a monumental structure dominating the horizon. It was latticework iron, an