"Hey, Kaija Sepala, wake up."
The photography studio was dimly lit by faint silver light pouring in through the window, more from the moon than the streetlights below, given it was on the 18th floor.
Not a single light in the room was on. If it were, it would give away that someone was inside of that room right now, when every other room in the building sat in absolute darkness.
Lying unconscious on the couch beneath the windows was Kaija, her long black coat now serving as a blanket over her body, along with another black leather jacket.
Standing by the window, leaning against the wall, was the owner of that jacket. He looked down at her unmoving figure, a weary sigh slipping out.
He had only cut off her airway long enough to stop her from screaming. How had that made her pass out for two hours straight?
