Fifty-five stories up, at a breath-stealing height of 200 meters, Antonia stood teetering in the biting wind, trembling from head to toe, her cries piercing the air, “Dad, Daddy!”

Estelle, clutching a part of her coat that had become a makeshift swing, gave it a shake, prompting an even more terrified scream from Antonia.

Her face contorted by the gale, vertigo and fear stripped away all her previous arrogance and calm. She couldn’t stop screaming, “Estelle, what are you doing?”

“Estelle, let me go!”

“Please, let me go!”

Her cries were a mix of tears and desperation, quickly dried by the wind as she shook uncontrollably. Words failed her, leaving her with only her screams.

“Antonia!”

Suddenly a voice rang out urgently. Estelle turned to see Cliff Crawley rushing toward them with his team.

Antonia plummeted half a meter from the rooftop, unable to see Cliff but hearing his voice, she cried out, “Dad, save me, please save me!”

might actually throw Antonia off in a fit of panic, froze in place and watched breathlessly as the girl clung to life on

wore a black blouse, dark green slacks, and short, sturdy boots. Her face was stunningly

hands, she was as calm as a breeze on a

her eyes and

anything!” Cliff tried to negotiate gently. “Whatever

what your daughter has done?” Estelle asked

done, I apologize to you on her behalf, and I

Estelle scoffed. “No, I never accept apologies—I believe in an eye for an

she let the coat dangle a bit more, and the rooftop echoed with Antonia’s

“Daddy, Daddy!”

rigid, his gaze locked on Estelle; the bodyguards he brought

do you want to know

head around, her

“What did you say?”

can tell you—I know!”

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