She craned and craned; gripping the edge of the balcony for safety. This was as far as she could lean without endangering herself. A grin escaped from her lips.
She felt clever. Up on the balcony spying. She peered down at the pink tracksuit, and it became smaller and smaller as it sauntered out of view. From the vantage point nine floors up, her grin became a smile.
I can see her, but she can’t see me.