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Tanner Three stories is a hell of a long way down. I’m standing at the window Henri fell from, my feet planted where his must have been less than twenty-four hours before. I imagine the pressure of two hands on my shoulder blades, of the sudden weightlessness as gravity takes hold. Had Henri been afraid while he was falling? Or had been too surprised to even realize what was happening? What would it feel like to fly for just a moment? Why don’t you try it and see? The thought scratches at the edge of my brain, and before I can even process it, one of my hands reaches out toward the closed frame of the window. “Tyler?” a voice calls from the room behind me. I jolt, the sudden sound tugging me back from the window. My mind races as I realize what I had been doing, and I try to keep the