Grace's POV

I may have been fine if I hadn't tripped over my vodka bottle. I ran up to the stairs' door, but the door was locked.

I had seconds before he saw I was gone. I took the bobby pin out of my hair. I quickly picked the lock on the door. I heard the door to my room slide open.

The lock on the staircase door didn't open.

"GRACE!" Moriarty yelled.

I quickly tried the door. It was just jammed. I had two seconds before he grabbed me. I slammed the door on his right hand. He screamed in pain and he fell on the ground.

"Payback for making me fall on the ground," I told him. I was lucky I didn't break any bones. I shut the door, locked it, and went to the entrance.

I tried picking the lock back at the entryway door into the hallway, but that didn't work. I sat in the living room, to try and figure out an escape plan; a way to get out of his house.

Windows were out of the question, considering the 25-story drop. Then, I thought, maybe I could punch in a code to get outside, but it was a sliding, bomb-proof door. No code on the inside that I could punch in. I tied an extra rope to the door on a hook nearby for coats so he couldn't get out.

Then I had an idea. What about the scaffolding? The window wiper's scaffolding was still there.

I thought at first the police could have taken it down for evidence, but I hoped they didn't and wishfully started to walk towards the winds (while Moriarty still screamed), but remembered they said it was on the floor lobby.

Yet, it was right outside his window.

I saw it. Right out outside Moriarty's lair, his apartment, his dungeon and torture chamber. Just as I was about to connect the dots, the final line was drawn. I understood it, almost.

Whoever that person was, I had to find them. That person was (I sounded like) forcibly put in the position to kill. They would know all the answers. Whoever it was was the one who paid the TV station to say it was in the lobby…

Unless they had someone on the inside. But then I realized that couldn't be possible. I knew it wasn't. I found so many people I would have to have found them by then.

I saw the scaffolding, and I knew it would be the only way to get down, other than getting the remote. Unless there was another remote on that floor, I couldn't go back and try to fight Moriarty for the remote. I knew I shouldn't and wouldn't even try, because I knew he would pull something. He's Moriarty. He always pulls something.

Either though I thought there wasn't a remote in the apartment—other than in Moriarty's hands—I still looked around for a remote. In the closet I hid in (not successfully), in all of the corners—I even found a few hidden compartments behind paintings, and under the couch. I even found a few hidden compartments behind paintings and under the couch. I pressed a few buttons on the large button panel, but not too many. Last time I did that, I almost died.

In the end, I realized my only option was the scaffolding. I could die, I thought, but then, I also thought, I would die even if I went to Moriarty. Either way, there was a risk.

The scaffolding was two feet away from the window. It may not seem like a lot, but 25 stories up, it's a different story. And it dangled in the wind.

"Why the HELL am I doing this?" I asked myself as I opened the window. I climbed up on the couch, put my foot out 250 FREAKING FEET ABOVE THE GROUND, and pulled the scaffolding in. Somehow, Moriarty and his person did it. I could do it.

I looked outside, and saw the harbor. I decided that if I fell, I would fall looking at the harbor.

Right as I was about to jump on to the scaffolding, my phone decided to vibrate and scare me. I fell onto the couch.

"Hello?" I asked. IT was John. I sounded annoyed.

"Hey, Gracie. Just checking if you're doing well," he replied. I was standing back up, trying to get back on the scaffolding.

"Um, I'm kind of busy," I said, trying to say it normally, but my voice cracked. I couldn't blame myself.

"Okay. Well I'll call you later. Bye," he said. I threw my iPhone to the ground.

"No more distractions," I told myself. I pulled the scaffolding towards me with my foot.

And I jumped in. In retrospect, I should have kept my eyes open. I landed one foot it, one foot out. The shock of the jump started to make me fall out the way gravity wanted me to—towards the ground 250 feet below.

But, I pulled myself back in.

"No," I told myself. "You don't get to die. Moriarty doesn't get to win."

But, when I jumped onto the scaffolding, it made a weird sound.

Like…the screws were coming undone.

When the bottom started to fall out, I understood what the screwdriver was for.

The bottom fell out, and sides started to fall off.

"NO! HE DOESN'T GET TO WIN!" I yelled.

The scaffolding fell apart. Completely. Yet, I wasn't falling. I realized I was holding on to a cable. One cable for both of my hands.

250 feet above the concrete ground.

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