The walls of Camelot weren’t very high. Not for what she was planning. She stood on the tallest tower, looking down, and it didn’t seem nearly far enough.
But no one would care. No one would even notice.
She took a deep breath, and climbed up on the edge, ready to jump.
“Summer! I’ve been looking for you!” He paused. “That’s not a brilliant place to stand.”
Someone called her name — Percival. She wobbled, and grabbed at the stone, heart pounding. Falling was different from jumping. Jumping was a choice.
“What is it, Percival?” Her voice trembled, forced through an aching throat.