Page 107 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

For one agonizing second, she couldn’t decide between stepping out onto the roof or staying to face Eddie Hanson. Her hands tingled, and her throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. Air was sucked into her lungs in short, painful gasps. The door at the bottom of the stairwell to the roof slammed open. It was now or never. But her feet wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move.

She was literally paralyzed with fear.

What had Sammy said? All she needed to do was hold Noah’s hand, and she’d be fine.

But Noah wasn’t with her. And there was no hand to hold.

“Stupid bitch,” came the taunt from the bottom of the stairs. “Where the fuck are you going to run to?”

But she didn’t need to run.

Because she also remembered Jacob’s advice: When the world gets too big, focus on something small. Something close.

Annabelle dragged her eyes from the vast expanse of the sky and stared down at her feet on the roof’s gray surface. There was a shallow, surface crack about three feet from her toes. All she had to do was step forward and stand on that small crack.

She could do that. She could stare at the crack until it was under her toes.

“You can’t do it.” Eddie laughed at her. “You’re too fucking scared even to run for your life. I can’t wait to see what mybuyers do to you. Whoever wins your auction is gonna have a party driving you insane.”

With every ounce of strength within her, Annabelle moved her foot.

Their SUV screeched to a halt in front of the warehouse. There was no sign that anything had been disturbed. Noah was out the door before the engine was off, running for the main entrance.

The building was eerily quiet.

His team came up behind him as he cautiously entered the warehouse, gun in hand.

“Taking the back,” Abasi said through Noah’s earpiece. “Rodrigo, you’re with me.”

“I’m going down the side,” Violet said.

“I’ll cover Violet,” Katrina said.

Noah, Rochelle, Logan, and Harris spread out on the ground floor. They checked the burned-out shop and storage area at the rear but found nothing. Noah noted that the boys had somehow armed themselves despite Rochelle telling them to get licensed first. If she noticed, she said nothing.

“Upstairs,” Noah whispered to the rest of his team, and the four of them made their way to the second floor.

Noah, who took lead, spotted Evan first.

“Evan’s down,” he told his team.

Logan and Harris rushed up the stairs to get to their brother, and Noah signaled them to keep silent. Without making a sound, they fell to Evan’s side and checked for a pulse.

“He’s alive.” Logan was pale but relieved.

“Bullet wound to the shoulder,” Harris said. “I’ll call an ambulance.” He dug out his phone and whispered into it.

Noah lifted his chin to Rochelle, and they separated, guns ready as they checked each room on the second floor. He found signs of a struggle in the small office Annabelle had used to go over her testimony. One glance at the old wooden credenza, and he knew where ADA Grant had stashed her drugged body.

He’d castigate himself later for not thinking to check the cupboard.

“Clear,” Rochelle whispered.

“Clear this end,” Noah added.

“No one on the fire escape,” Violet reported.

“Back of the building clear,” Rodrigo said.