But for once, work proved ineffective as a distraction. Her concentration was shot. Every time her mind drifted back to thatHornbill Gazettepost, her chest started hurting, darkness crowding at the edge of her vision.
When she found herself rereading a draft press release for the Chinese New Year collection for the third time, Renee made a snap decision.
She’d go for a run. She hadn’t been exercising much of late. That must be why she was like this, so jangled and nervy that merely reading a blog post had sent her into a spiral.
She’d burn off her restlessness, get out of her head, and come back refreshed, ready to tackle her inbox. Things would seem less bad then.
The sun was low in the sky by the time Renee set off, heading for her usual route in Hyde Park. It would be dark soon, but solong as she stuck to the main paths, with their rows of lampposts, she’d be all right.
It was a clear, crisp day. There would be frost on the grass in the morning. Her breath steamed in the air. She let the movement take over: the steady beat of her heart; the thud of her trainers on the path; the rhythm of her legs.
It didn’t take long for her to get winded—she was out of shape. Too much work and worry, not enough physical exertion. But she pushed through, relishing the burn in her chest and the ache in her muscles.
The lamps were coming on along the path when her phone, strapped to her arm, started buzzing. The ringtone interrupted the true crime podcast she’d been half listening to—a recommendation from Nathalie, who had ghoulish tastes in nonfiction. Renee glanced at the screen.
It was Su Khoon.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“They’ve gone for us,” said Su Khoon, without precursor.
Renee was already slowing down. She came to an abrupt stop.
“What?” she said, though she already knew what he meant. What else could he be talking about?
“We got the deal.” Su Khoon’s voice was exultant. “I’ve told Dad. He wants to have a call tomorrow morning. Can you come over to the house? Penny’s looking at flights for me, I should be in London by tonight.”
There was a fair amount of background noise on the line. He must be in a café or something. Maybe that was why his voice sounded like it was coming from so far away. The syllables landed against Renee’s ears, weightless, deprived of meaning.
“You’re coming back?” she said.
“What’s that? Yes,” said Su Khoon. “There’s some kind of lag, you’re taking forever to come through. Yeah, might as well get to work. I’ve seen enough of lakes. I’ll see you at eight a.m.tomorrow? I’m going to ring the lawyers now, get them to clear conflicts, all that.”
“Right,” said Renee.
“Bye,” said Su Khoon. “Good work. We got there!”
He rang off, to Renee’s distant relief. He probably hadn’t heard her breathing change, though she could hear herself, hoarse and laboured.
No matter how hard she fought to breathe, it wasn’t enough. The pressure in her chest was crushing, her heart in a vice. Her vision narrowed.
She crumpled over onto the path, gasping for air. Pain sparked in her knee as the tarmac scraped the skin off through the thin fabric of her leggings. She thumped her fist against her chest as if that might shift the obstruction, her other hand scrabbling for purchase on the path.
Dread shook her in its jaws. It felt like she was going to die.
It took a while for the voice to penetrate.
“Are you all right?” A man’s voice. Then it said, shocked, “Renee?”
It came to Renee that she knew the person speaking. It was Ket Siong.
She choked out, “Panic attack.”
She’d had them before, though not in a while. This was probably a recurrence, and not that she was dying, bad as it felt.
She was remotely conscious of Ket Siong hovering, not quite touching her.
“How can I help?” he said.
