“What do you reckon, Magpie?” “W-what?” “Will he fall, or fly?” My breath dances between us in a puff of condensation. It’s labored and heavy, fueled by a morbid buzz of adrenaline that swirls in my lungs. Holy crow. My body is buzzing with the thrill, the danger of it all. “Fall,” I choke out. “Fall all the way to hell.” He nods. “Let’s hope,” he grinds out.
