Don't own a thing.
Shana remained still, as she had been instructed to do. By this point though, it wasn't easy. She'd been stuck in this chair, tied up, in this position for far too long for it to even be remotely comfortable. But she knew better than to try and move or make any sound.
Her husband, the apparent psycho, stood between her and the window a lot of the time. Watching. Some times he was silent, other times preaching. Telling her what was in store for her.
He kept her up to date with the situation. From his talk with Gavin, the phone call to tell him what he was going to do, watching her lover arrive.
There was a clock on the wall, when she could, Shana would sneak a look at it and try to hold the tears inside.
Gavin was standing on the ledge of the building across from them, being forced to choose between taking his own life or letting her husband take hers.
Shana prayed for him, praying he would do the right thing. He was too perfect and pure next to her, she loved him. He didn't need to die for her. And she couldn't live without him.
Sadly, she knew this would not come to be. She knew him, and she knew he would do it. That he would for her.
The clock rang out, telling her it was time without that last glace at the ticking time keeper.
Shana felt her heart jump to her throat, her body starting to shake no matter how much she tried to will it away.
"He's going to do it," she heard her husband say.
The first tears trickled down her face before the man she loved took those last few steps and began falling to his death.