She what?

Ramona ran.

She didn't look back. She couldn't. If she did, she might see them. The shadows lurking in the penthouse, the monsters she was sure were watching her every move, waiting for her to falter.

Her breath came in short, panicked bursts as she sprinted through the dim corridors, her bare feet barely making a sound against the marble floors. Her mind screamed at her to move faster. She was running on nothing but desperation, her body weak, her thoughts frantic.

She reached the stairwell and hesitated for only a second before launching herself down the steps, skipping two at a time. She didn't trust the elevators. Those would be monitored, tracked. But the stairs—maybe, just maybe, she could slip away before anyone realized she was missing.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she finally reached the ground floor. The air was colder here, filled with the distant scent of damp earth. The exit was close—so close.

And then she saw it.

The door.