If I could hear him down there, he wasn’t up here. My feet raced to his door like the rest of me was an after-thought. Looking around myself, I shoved a chair under the knob to bide time. The pounding I heard was Elliot racing back up the stairs. I struggled into a shirt I found on his bathroom counter. He slammed against his bedroom door as I dashed again for the balcony but heard who must’ve been his night guard on the lower patio speaking frantic Spanish to someone else. I glanced at the window and saw a branch just outside. I shoved the window open as Elliot slammed…