This is From Matilda.

Chapter eleven - recovery

"Thank you, Jack."

I hoped I sounded sincere.

He had a peculiar look in his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

I quickly slipped out of the car before he could.

*
I didn't expect hugs and smiles on my return, but I didn't realise Lexi would be so cold.

I creaked open the door, and stepped inside. Lexi was hunched over her laptop, furiously typing.

I didn't know what to say, or how to approach her. I didn't particularly want to.

I backed out of the room as quickly as I could. As I made my way out of the apartment, I crossed paths with Boots; he gave me a disapproving look, as a parent would to a misbehaving child.

"I'll explain later, I promise."

"Unfortunately, Tills, it's not me you have to worry about."

Don't I know it.

When I reached the landing outside of the apartment, I felt as though I could breathe again. I didn't particularly want to go out; so, with no where else to go, I made my way up to the roof of the building.

Technically, it wasn't meant for public use, but it would have to do. Zona didn't like us going up, 'just in case' someone saw something. Nevertheless, I knew that some of the people from the apartment regularly smoke on the roof, especially on those lazy, summer nights.

The air was cool, and a light breeze, gently played with the wisps of hair that had escaped my pony tail.
I curled my fingers around the bar of the barrier, but only my fingers felt the icy metal.
I realised my bandages were still on, and I hastily began to rip them off my hands.
If anyone saw those, it would just mean another bout of unnecessary explaining.
The cuts still stung a little, but the easy chill of the evening soothed them.

There wasn't much of a view, only blocky skyscrapers for a good distance. Though the low sun cast London in a romantic glow, softening the concrete jungle in a Tuscan gold.

This was a good distraction.

A distraction from all the things I had to do.

So much talking, explaining, excuses, apologies.

But up here, I was alone.

The roof door squeaked behind me.

Evidently, it seemed I couldn't hide away forever.

I didn't have to turn around to see who was behind me. I could tell from the shuffle of footsteps that it was Norbert. He walked up to the barrier, next to me, and leaned on the metal bar with folded arms.

"So, care to share about what's going on? The whole apartment is pretty tense at the moment, it seems."

Perfect. Another person to talk to.

I let out a long sigh, and recited my alibi.

"I've been feeling really stressed at the moment, and I've been trying to suppress it, but it just made things worse."

Well, that was partially true.

"Yesterday, I just couldn't handle it anymore. So I bought a couple of beers, and got drunk a lot faster than I thought I would."