My right foot hit the unsalted top step.

There was no friction at all. My leg shot out from under me into empty space. I didn’t have time to grab the wrought-iron railing. I went backward, twisting to protect my head.

My right elbow slammed against the jagged edge of the concrete step with the full weight of my falling body.

I heard the hollow snap before my brain could register the pain.

Then it came — a white-hot explosion that swallowed my ability to breathe. I lay crumpled at the bottom of the icy stairs, gasping like a fish thrown onto a dock.

Above me, Jason stood in the warm golden light of the open doorway, looking down at my twisted body on the frozen concrete. His face held no horror. No panic.