Natasha figures if they wanted to kill her she’d be dead by now, but she can’t bring herself to wait around to see what they want. She has no plan but moves anyway, knowing there might not be a better chance. She lurches forwards, slamming her head into his groin with all the power she can muster. Pain sets off depth charges somewhere in her brain, and she can’t help but screw her eyes shut. She pushes back against the wall and up to her feet, stumbles past him as he crumples to his knees. She could weep with relief when she sees the front door still slightly open, and nudges it wider with her shoulder, blundering out into the corridor and pinballing off the far wall.

She hears shouts coming from back inside but doesn’t look behind her. Doesn’t waste time fumbling for the elevator button with her hands still tied, and charges through the door to the stairs. Her momentum carries her shoulder first into a wall, but she stops short of plunging down the stairs. Her chest is tight, and she wonders if this is what it feels like to have asthma. To have to fight for every breath. Halfway down and she hears the door above her burst open. Knows they’re coming for her. She reaches the bottom. Shit! The door opens inwards. She spins round and gropes blindly for the handle. She sees the first man, the bigger one, round the corner of the stairwell above her, and the scream that’s been building inside her since they burst into her flat rips out, echoing up every flight of stairs as she turns and runs out into the lobby.

Where are her fucking neighbours when she needs them? Never so much as look her in the eye, let alone say hello, but what she’d give to see one of their miserable faces right now. The door to the street is like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Her heart feels ready to explode, like she’s finishing a marathon, although she can’t have travelled more than a hundred yards all told. She veers over to the left, pressing the release button with the side of her head that doesn’t feel caved in. Click. Shoulder pressed to the door, she still expects to feel a hand around her neck any moment, yet the acoustics are deceptive, and his heavy footsteps are thundering all around her, but the chill night breeze hits her face, whispers that everything will be alright.