The entryway shut, leaving the room dim beside the delicate light originating from the substance of Roman's computerized clock and the diffused light leaking through the window. Roman held up discreetly, giving the minutes a chance to pass.

How had Marisa gotten away? How had she done it so discreetly? He could just envision that she had jumped off the rooftop. Which implied that Marisa may at present be sprawled on his garage with a broken neck.