After a breathless second, I do as I'm told. My gait is clumsy as I make my way to the glass and press a sweaty hand against its cold surface. I swallow. “Well, uh. It’s cloudy, but I don’t think it’ll r—” My forecast is sliced in half by a sound I’d know anywhere. It's a sound I’ve heard before, twice, as it took the lives of both my dead-beat parents. Bang. The gunshot reverberates off the walls and rings in my ears. Everything stops—my words, the time, my pulse. “Penelope?” I latch on to the tranquility in Raphael’s voice like a life-line. “Don’t turn around. Just open the door and take a
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