Chapter 33
MYLES
I remember sitting in the tree house with Emma not long after we’d met.
She was eating strawberries while staring out the window. “Would you ever go to outer space?”
“No,” I said, following her gaze.
She frowned like she was disappointed. “Why not?”
I took a strawberry off the plate in front of her. “Because it’s scary.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s big and dark.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She bounced her feet on the floorboards, never able to stay still. “I think it would be fun to see what Earth looks like from up there.”
“Aren’t you afraid of anything?” I asked.
“Everyone’s afraid of something.”
But I had a hard time believing her because from what I’d seen, she was brave. She wasn’t scared of bugs or the dark. She didn’t seem to care if she was up high or in tight spaces.
I was amazed by her.
“What are you afraid of?” I asked.
She tilted her head, peering over at me. Her eyes were shy, which I wasn’t used to. It was like I was getting a glimpse into her innermost thoughts, the ones she kept secret.
“Being alone,” she whispered.
I didn’t expect her to say that since being alone wasn’t something I found scary. I figured whatever frightened her was going to be something horrific.
“What’s so scary about that?”
She scratched her head, looking back out the window. “Lonely people are the saddest people I know.”
Her smile faded a little, and I wondered what she was thinking about. Had she been lonely before?
I couldn’t fathom anyone wanting to leave Emma alone. She was addicting. From the moment we met, I wanted to be around her. Every chance I had, I’d sneak next door.
I rested my head on her shoulder, wanting her to feel better. “You don’t have to worry.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I won’t let you be lonely.”
She rested her head against mine. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
At the time, I thought being lonely wasn’t scary. It was controllable. Preventable.
I was wrong. Now that Emma isn’t here, I know loneliness is the most painful form of torture. It’s terrifying. Soul-crushing.
It’s a sadness, rotting away inside you.
But what hurts even more is knowing I failed to keep my promise to her. I let her be lonely.
I let her push me away when she needed me most.
Tears pool in my eyes as I lie awake at night. The room is cold, the bed is hard. I haven’t slept well in over a year, and now it’s only worse.
I’ve cried so much I’m numb and my throat is raw.
She’s not supposed to be gone. She was supposed to find her sister and be happy again. That’s all I wanted.
Every time I close my eyes, I picture her lying on the pavement, and I can’t breathe.
I should be mad at her for jumping out of Sam’s car, but I’m not. I blame myself for telling her to look into the bridge when she wasn’t emotionally ready to do it. I should’ve helped her—
The bridge.
I sit up as a new thought comes to mind.
Emma isn’t the only person who can jump.
“I didn’t do it,” I say.
My attorney sits across from me, wearing a crisp black suit and blue tie. His hands are clasped together in front of him. “You pleaded guilty.”
“But they found Mallory’s body. It’s impossible for me to have done it,” I say.
I’ve heard the news. Everyone has. The body was discovered a year before Mallory jumped off the bridge, but DNA testing confirmed it was hers.
“You do realize how peculiar this case is, right? It has everyone working overtime to understand the truth.”
“But I wasn’t even in town when her body was discovered, so shouldn’t that be enough to get me out of here?”
He scratches his head. “The problem is you pleaded guilty and overturning a conviction doesn’t happen overnight. There’s a process and sometimes that process is long even if you didn’t do it.”
“Just tell me what I need to do to get out of here, and I’ll do it,” I say.
My only hope is outside of this place. Being in here is what saved Emma the first time, but getting out of here is my only chance at saving her now. I have to finish what she started. I have to jump.