Chapter 28
EMMA
My body hits the cold water and it pulls me under, swallowing me into darkness. My heart races, and I’m too stunned to move. I can’t think because Myles’s face is the only thing I see. The pain in his eyes as he forced me over the edge.
He didn’t do it. He didn’t hurt Mallory, but somehow this is harder to wrap my mind around. He threw his life away on the hope I could find Mallory.
I choke, shocking me into reality as water enters my mouth. The unwelcome taste propels me to kick my legs and swing my arms until I emerge. Water flows into my face as I thrash against the river.
The sun is fading, and I swing my body around to get a better look at the bridge. No one is standing up there. Myles is gone.
“Mallory!” I yell, beating at the water until I get to a point where I can stand. I yell her name again, looking in every direction.
She has to be here because if she isn’t, then it means everything we’ve been through was for nothing.
My foot catches on a rock and I fall forward, water splashing in my eyes. I’m so weak I have to force myself to crawl out of the river. “Mallory!” I scream, voice hoarse. “Where are you?”
I run along the river with legs made of lead, keeping my eyes on the slow rapids for any sign of her.
Tears cascade down my face, dripping from my chin. This is worse than I could’ve ever imagined.
How could I have missed the glaring fact that Mallory needed help? I was so focused on what I thought best that I overlooked the real problem. She was falling apart. She was broken and sick.
I run to the point where I can’t follow the river anymore.
“Mallory!” It’s like I’m screaming into a void, and there’s no one calling back. “Tell me where you are!”
Am I too late? Did we waste so much time arguing on the bridge that she’s already drowned? Am I about to find her lifeless body floating in the water?
I spin around, gasping for air.
There has to be another explanation because I can’t live with myself if she’s really gone forever. Not when it’s my fault. I had the chance to save her and I failed.
All this time I wanted to understand what happened to her but . . .
She wanted to die.
I don’t bother wiping my tears as I scream. I’m a mess, clothes dripping and hair plastered to my face.
This isn’t right.
I won’t let this be true.
They never found her body, so where is she?
My knees buckle and I sink to the ground. I’m exhausted, and my head is light. But more than anything I’m lonely, and there’s no one here to help me stay upright. No one here to tell me everything is going to be okay.
Everything is an awful shade of white. The walls, the bedsheets, the blinds on the window. Even with my vision blurred, I know this isn’t my room. It’s clean and smells sterile.
I lift my arm. There’s an IV inserted in the back of my hand with some sort of tape holding it in place.
“Emma, can you hear me?”
It’s my dad.
He’s at my side. His hand lands on my cheek. “Are you okay?”
I focus on him and his red-rimmed eyes. I swear his hair has grayed more since the last time I saw him and he’s lost weight. He’s thin and his shoulders slump forward like he’s trying to hide. He looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in weeks.
I gasp, trying to sit up. “Mallory. We need to find Mallory.”
He shakes his head and places his hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me back down. “Mallory’s dead.”
“We have to search the river again. She’s there.”
His brow furrows, pain in his eyes. “No. She’s not. It’s been a year.”
He doesn’t understand, and how am I supposed to explain the last three days to him without him thinking I’m talking nonsense?
I’ve already dealt with people not believing me in the past, and I can’t handle him telling me it’s all in my head.
I know it’s true. Mallory jumped off the bridge and she’s out there somewhere.
I try to sit up again. “I want to talk to Myles.”
“You can’t.” Confusion deepens on Dad’s face as he looks at me.
“I need to,” I say.
Myles is the only person who understands. He’ll know what to do. He has to.
Dad shakes his head, stepping back. His hand runs down his face, and I know what’s going through his head—I’m not thinking straight; I’m having another episode.
But it isn’t true.
I reach for my IV like ripping it out of my hand will allow me to run away and find Myles.
“Emma, stop!” Dad yells, trying to keep me still, but at this point it’s useless.
My arms are flailing and I yank the IV out. Blood drips across the white sheets. “I need to get out of here! I have to find Mallory!”
“Mallory is dead!” he yells back.
“No! She’s not!” She’s somewhere. I know she is, and I just need to find her. I can’t accept she’s really gone when I just saw her. It seems like moments ago she was in my reach, jumping off the bridge.
I push harder, kicking, and drops of blood scatter across the sheet like polka dots.
A nurse runs into the room and helps Dad hold me down. Then more nurses rush in, and it all blurs together. I’m screaming, Dad is crying, and the nurses are trying to reason with me.
At some point they hold my arm down long enough to give me a shot.
My body slowly begins to feel too heavy to move, and it’s like my mind detaches from everything around me.
I want to kick and scream, but I can’t. I feel numb and tired.
My mouth closes and I lie back down because I can’t fight the nurse anymore.
One nurse runs off and comes back with a new bedsheet. Another nurse lifts my hand, cleaning the area and reinserting a new IV, but it doesn’t feel like me. It's as if I’m watching an episode on TV, not lying here myself.
Dad sits back in his chair, head hanging low.
I need to find out what happened to Mallory, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. Every time I blink it’s harder to open my eyes again, and then I can’t open them at all.
I lie on my hospital bed, staring out the window. My body is curled up in the sheets, away from everyone. No one’s said it to my face, but I can tell by the look in their eyes they think I’m unstable.
They brought in Dr. Lennon, the same doctor who took my psychiatric evaluation after I saw—or thought I saw—Mallory die. As soon as I saw his face, I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone the truth. It would be pointless. The only way out of here is to pretend the last three days never happened.
“I ran away because I was upset about Mallory,” I’d said. I said it because it’s what they wanted to hear. It's simple, an easier explanation than me telling them I went back in time. Who’d believe me? If I told them that, I’d have to stay here longer.
A woman comes into the room. She’s wearing gray slacks with a navy blue shirt under a dark blazer. She walks up to Dad and holds out her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Adler.”
Dad shakes her hand and greets her.
“Do you mind if I have a minute alone with your daughter?”
He looks between the two of us but doesn’t argue. He’s barely said anything over the last day, so when he doesn’t reply I’m not shocked. He nods and leaves the room.
The woman pulls a chair closer to my bed and sits cross-legged. “Hello, Emma. I’m Detective Amato. I was the lead detective in your missing persons case.” She says it with too much enthusiasm like she wants a prize for finding me alive.
If she wants a prize, she should find my missing sister.
“I want to ask you a few questions if that’s okay.”
I don’t want to talk to her. She’s just another adult who wants to hear my story again, and I’m tired of lying.
She gives me a moment to reply, and when I don’t, she clears her throat and she starts talking again anyway. “We’re all very happy that you’re doing well.”
That almost makes me laugh in a cynical-not-funny-at-all kind of way. Doesn’t she see me lying in a hospital bed right now?
“I want you to know you can talk to me. I want to help you any way I can.”
I stare at her, hearing what she’s saying but knowing I can’t trust her. I can’t expect her to help me even if it’s her job. She’s a detective. She looks for facts, things that can’t be refuted, and what I’ve experienced the last few days is confusing. Even though I lived it, I don’t understand it.
“I don’t need to talk,” I say.
“Is everything okay at home?” she asks.
I hate her questions because the answers are so obvious. There’s no need for her to ask them in the first place.
“No. My sister is missing.”
She tilts her head, looking at me like she’s trying to read between the lines of what I’m saying. “It can be hard to adjust to change. I’m sorry you’re going through that. How have things changed since she’s been gone?”
I blink, gaze faltering. “Everything changed.”
“Do you feel safe at home without her there?”
I narrow my eyes. Is that why she’s really here? To make sure my dad is taking care of me? He doesn’t have anything to do with what happened. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“If something’s wrong, we want to help you.”
“The only thing wrong is my sister is missing,” I say a little too loudly. Like I’m on the verge of losing control again.
She nods, reaches into the pocket of her jacket, and pulls out a business card. “This is my number. I know you don’t want to talk right now, but if you change your mind, you can call me.” She sets the card down on the bed. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
Right before she walks out the door I say, “Wait.”
She turns with her hand on the doorframe.
“Was anyone else found by the river?” I ask. My heart beats in a mix of nerves and agony, scared that she’ll say yes.
“No. Were you with someone?”
I hesitate, not knowing how I should answer. I can’t tell her I’m searching for Mallory’s body.
“I thought I saw someone in the water,” I lie.
She shakes her head. “No one else was found.”
I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. On one hand, I’m relieved her body hasn’t washed up, but then where is she?