Kana's fingers trembled as she pressed them against the cool wall.
Her chest felt tight, the air around her heavy—thick enough that every breath scraped against her throat.
She couldn't stay here.
The longer she remained inside this place, the more it felt like invisible hands were wrapping around her lungs, squeezing, suffocating.
It wasn't panic—at least, not the kind she could name—it was something deeper, a heavy, creeping dread that told her she would shatter if she didn't move.
Her gaze flickered to the door.
The thought of running flashed through her mind, but it died almost immediately.
Even without proof, she knew she wouldn't make it that far. Something in her bones whispered that the moment she reached for that handle, the ground itself would turn against her.
So… the window, then.
