She checked her preparations. At the moment, she was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The T-shirt was made out of long-john-type material—the nights were still chilly here in the mountains. She had sneakers on her feet.

She had a bookbag packed with her own minidress, high heels, makeup, and cell phone. The TV in her living area was on, loud, like she had been playing it for months—loud enough for the man out in the hall to hear it. Her window out to the roof was already open.

She was in the habit of ignoring her Secret Service man at night, and just going to bed without telling him. The way she played it, she would turn off the lights and leave the TV set on. Then she would watch in the dark. It was a perfectly normal thing to do.

She did that now.

She sat for a moment in the eerie glow of the TV, and the night. A show was on an American satellite station—a show about New Jersey mobsters she had long enjoyed—but she couldn’t focus on it right now.

It was now or never. Rita was going to wait five extra minutes, then go.

If it was going to happen, it was all on Elizabeth’s shoulders. As it should be. This wasn’t Rita’s problem. This wasn’t Rita’s part. She had helped Elizabeth concoct the plan, but Elizabeth had to seize the freedom for herself.

One night. One crazy night of fun, madness, daring, and rebellion, and she would never be able to do this again. From now on, her security would be so tight, she’d be lucky to be able to move from room to room without a big man in a suit, with an earpiece, looking over her shoulder.

Okay. Let’s do this.

She stood silently and picked up her bookbag.

She moved toward the window. She still didn’t have to do it. She hadn’t committed yet. She could turn back at any moment. If the Secret Service man suddenly burst in, she could still explain it away. She was just… standing by the window… breathing in the night air… with a bookbag in her hand.

And in the bookbag were clothes to go out clubbing.

Stop it! Just go!

So she did. She raised a leg and stuck it out the window. The roof was below floor level here, so she had to sit up on the windowsill for a second. She dropped down to the roof with a light thump.

Oh God! Did he hear that?

She crouched down and looked back through the window at the front door to her apartment. There was light under the door from the hallway. She felt like she could almost see the shadow of her bodyguard standing out there.

No one came. The man didn’t knock or make any move to open her door.