The wind was loud, up here. Almost louder than the elans and Gears ten floors down. It rushed in from the Great Trench, down the streets, between the buildings, up and off.
Lyta stood perched on the windowsill, looking down. It was a long way down. She swallowed, glanced behind her into her room of the hotel suite. Still alone. At least for a little while longer.
The wind rustled the stray hairs that had escaped her braid, pulled at her shirt, tugged at her pant hems. Lyta held the sides of the window-frame as the wind danced between her fingers.
"I love you," Ti had said. "Bye."
There was nothing more to say.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped.