The Woman In The Window Novels & Stories

I look at the painting. It is New York City at night, viewed from a high window. The skyline. The amber light. The glass. And in the glass, a reflection. A woman is standing at the window, looking out with her honey-brown skin. Hair pinned up. She holds something to her chest, both hands wrapped around Her face turned slightly toward the glass so you can see her expression. The expression is the one I recognize from two years of standing at the penthouse window at night, thinking the thoughts I never said out loud.

A woman stands at a window , she's in her mid fifties and she has her hands on her jaw . Staring at the open space late in the dark night ,at about some minutes past eleven .She is dressed with a long white rope, and has her hair packed into her hair bonnet. With a stick of lighted cigarette in her hands , and a glass of spirit on the other. She keeps coughing at intervals. She appears quite rich and well to do, with her heavy built guards, standing behind her,right at the door post.

I leaned against it. “Okay ma'am, anything else?” I heard from the other side. No answer. “I’m leaving now,” said the man talking to whoever was inside. As soon as I heard the main door open inside, I quickly peeked through the window. It was obscured by thick curtains, but there was a small gap, and then I saw someone. It wasn’t Vanna. Who is she? I waited for her to turn slightly. There, I saw a woman wearing a regular shirt and pants, sipping something from a glass while comfortably sitting on the couch, staring at the television, as if she were a visitor at that moment.

They all looked messed up and high on shit. A tap on my window got my attention. I rolled down my window and looked at the woman standing there. The slim lady stood with a smile on her face. She was wearing a mini skirt and a crop top. Her curly blond hair was let down and her face was painted with thick make up. She had a small hand bag in her hand and wore high heels.

It dawned on me now why Cain didn’t bother to close the window; nobody in their right mind would jump down, except on a suicide mission. “And I don’t want to die,” I said as tears gathered in my eyes. How tall was this building? It felt like my memory was wiped and everything was happening afresh. Soon, the door creaked open and a lady in her mid twenties walked in. “What are you doing by the window?” She asked. She was different from the woman who opened the window, and she sounded friendly and warm. “Who are you?” I asked her even though Cain already told me that a maid would be coming.

Then I moved to the next window. A kitchen. A young woman standing at the counter with her back to me, pouring something into a mug. Dark hair pulled into a loose knot. She was wearing a blue dress. There was a baby chair at the kitchen table with a small plastic cup sitting in the tray. I stepped back from the window. I stood in the narrow side return and looked up at the dark upper windows and processed what I had just seen. This was not Aiden's property.

The kind that needed everyone to look. Crystal didn't know her. But something cold settled in her stomach anyway. The woman glanced up directly at Crystal's window. And smiled.

I said, unable to stop my grin from forming. Nate's brow furrowed and he turned to look at the floor-to-ceiling window I was staring at. There was a knock on the window. George froze, his eyes snapping toward the sound. I stood to my feet. There was a figure standing outside. It was a young woman. She looked no older than nineteen. She had wild brown hair and a fierce expression. She was peering in through the glass. She saw Nate and beamed before pointing at the handle. Nate hesitated for a moment before moving to the window. “Who are you?” he asked as he unlocked the window and pushed it open. There was a rush of cold air.

“I just… want to be honest now, before it’s too late.” The room’s tension thickened, as if the storm outside had seeped through the walls and settled between them. Ava studied him, measuring and weighing. She had learned the value of timing, knowing precisely when to act and when to wait. And now, Lucas stood before her, a reminder of everything lost and everything still possible to save, if she allowed it. Before she could respond, a loud crash shattered the fragile calm. The front window exploded inward, shards of glass scattering across the floor. A figure lunged through the opening, masked and armed, moving with lethal intent.