Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
TEN YEARS AGO
Madeline
Rain slams on the windshield like a thousand tiny pebbles hurled at the glass. The water flows downward in fat rivulets, faster than the pulsing wipers can clear it. I peer anxiously at the blurry white line bisecting the road, shimmering through the mist in Jason’s dim headlights.
Drive faster. I repeat the words over and over in my head, but I know Jason is doing the best he can.
The road curves to the right and disappears around the outcropping of rocks hanging over the river below.
Another car could come flying around the bend, and with the temperature dropping, the wet pavement could turn into a sheet of ice.
We wouldn’t be able to stop in time. So, I press back against the buttery leather seat of Jason’s Audi and tell myself to let him concentrate.
But a moment later, I’m leaning forward again, squinting into the darkness. “Do you really think Adam is okay?” I pull my hand into the armhole of my sweater and use it to wipe the condensation off the window.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Jason says with a quick glance in my direction. “I’ll bet he got caught up at work, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave.” He shoots me a sideways grin, one that says, You know how Adam is.
I do know how he is. Though Adam and I have only been dating for six months, I know him better than anyone, except for maybe Jason.
My shoulders relax. If Jason was worried that Adam never showed up to the party tonight, he’d be honest with me. Jason is my best friend too, and I know I can trust him.
“Thanks for leaving the party. I know you’re right, and Adam is probably working,” I say. Adam has been working so hard, taking on as many shifts as he can at the autobody, trying to sock away money for his future. For our future , he likes to tell me.
Jason steers the car around another bend. “I bet he’s on his way. He might be arriving at the party right now.”
A tiny shard of guilt slides into me. “I’m sorry I dragged you away.”
Jason had been dancing with Liza Blum, a popular cheerleader, when I interrupted to ask if he’d heard from Adam.
Maybe I overreacted, begging him to drive me around and see if we could spot Adam’s car parked somewhere in town.
But I couldn’t sit there with everyone laughing and joking around me, like they didn’t have a care in the world, while I stared at the door waiting for Adam to walk through it.
But Jason shakes his head. “Liza’s great, but you’re the most important person to me, Madeline.” His eyes dart in my direction before focusing back on the road. He clears his throat. “You… and Adam.”
I force a smile at his words, but darkness seeps into my chest. If Adam decided to work late, wouldn’t he have messaged to let me know? We text about everything, dozens of times per day: to check in, to share a funny story, just to say hi or I miss you .
“You know how cell reception is on these country roads,” Jason says as if he can sense where my thoughts are going. “I bet we’ll get a call from him at any minute.”
The rain on the windshield picks up its staccato beat, turning solid into tiny chunks of ice, and my heartbeat matches their rhythm.
Jason steers the car over the crest of a hill and back down again, the narrow country road following the twists and turns of the water below.
We’re closer to the river now than we were up on the cliff, and I can see the ice chunks bobbing along in the current.
The pavement straightens out, and maybe a quarter of a mile ahead, where the road curves out of sight again, I spot another car, its taillights weaving back and forth across the slick road.
“Careful,” I murmur to Jason, making sure he sees it through the sleet-smudged windshield.
I swipe at the fog obscuring the glass, urging the wipers to move faster.
The car on the road ahead is moving erratically, and Jason eases his foot off the gas to decrease our speed.
“They really should slow down in this weather.”
Ahead, the river curves again, and I expect the car to disappear around the bend. But instead of following the road, the car continues in its forward motion, sliding off the pavement and onto the rocky roadside berm.
Jason and I gasp in unison.
“They’re going off the road!” I grip the dashboard helplessly, squinting at the taillights bumping across the rocks. The car is perpendicular to the road now, careening toward the cliff with no signs of slowing down.
“Holy shit,” Jason mutters.
Through the mist, I watch in horror as the car meets the last bit of land and goes flying through the air for a millisecond before it drops out of sight toward the river below.
Even through the pounding rain and the screech of Jason’s brakes, I hear it hit the water like an ocean wave crashing on the shore.
Jason brings his car to an abrupt stop on the roadside berm where we saw the car disappear moments ago.
Wordlessly, we fling open our doors and run to peer over the cliff’s edge. Below, blood-red taillights bob in the water as the car tilts nose-down into the river. Ice chunks float around the vehicle, and sleet rains down in thousands of tiny splashes like pennies tossed in a fountain.
“Come on.” I squint in the darkness, spotting a dirt path curving around the rocks and down toward the river.
“Madeline, wait!” Jason calls, but I’m already running as fast as I can, cursing the completely impractical heels I wore to the party as I slide in the silt.
I hear his footfalls behind me, but I keep moving until I get to the river’s edge.
About twenty feet from shore, the car bobs and slowly sinks.
The water glows eerily from its headlights.
I shove my dripping hair out of my eyes, focusing on the leather-wrapped tire strapped to the back of the car, the stripe of silver on brick-red paint, the small blue oval with the word Ford written in cursive.
No. It can’t be. Oh, God. Please.
I’m staring at the tailgate of a vintage Ford Bronco. My vision goes white and the blood pounds in my ears.
It’s Adam’s car.
Jason skids to a stop next to me, and I turn to grab his arm, horror and terror rising like bile in my gut.
“Jason, it’s Adam’s car.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “It can’t be.”
I grip him tighter. “Look at the spare tire on the back. The color. It’s Adam’s. How many other people have a car like that?”
The realization dawns on his face, but I’m already yanking off my shoes and tossing them aside.
“He’s in there! We have to help him.” And before I can stop to think, I’m plunging into the river.
All of the breath leaves my lungs as I’m pummeled by the burning cold.
But I can’t stop. I can’t think. I keep moving forward.
From somewhere behind me, Jason screams my name.
But my attention is singularly focused on the car, slowly bobbing and sinking lower into the water.
I’m thigh-deep now, my whole body wracked with shivers and my teeth chattering uncontrollably.
My bare foot lands on the sharp edge of a rock and I stumble, falling face-first into the water.
I can’t feel any of my limbs and the water closes around me, but I claw my way to my feet, determined to get to the car.
To get to Adam.
A vise clamps around my shoulder, yanking me backward.
It’s Jason. I swing at him, fighting to get free, but he drags me to the edge of the water and deposits me on the shore.
“Madeline, you can’t go out there!” Jason yells over the pounding of the rain and the crack of ice chunks against the Bronco’s aluminum frame.
“I know you grew up swimming in the ocean, but this water is freezing, and Adam outweighs you by at least fifty pounds. Even if you could battle the current, you’d never be able to carry him to shore. ”
I dig my fingers into his forearms. “Jason, it’s Adam. We can’t leave him.”
“I’ll go!” He takes my face in his hands.
“Madeline, listen to me. That’s my best friend out there.
I’m one of the best swimmers on the team, and I’ve done rescue drills.
I’ll go and find him. You need to run back up the cliff, find some phone reception, and call 911.
Or flag down a car.” He gives me a shove back toward the path. “Go! Now!”
I hesitate for a fraction of second but he’s right.
Jason is a strong swimmer, and I know he cares about Adam just as much as I do.
And we don’t have time to waste by arguing.
I turn and run barefoot up the path, digging my phone out of my pocket as I go.
My chest is burning from the exertion and the cold when I finally get to the top of the cliff.
Heaving air into my lungs, I swipe at my phone to turn it on, but the screen goes bright blue and then black.
Water drips from the charging port. I give it a frantic shake, trying to power it back on, but it remains dark.
No. Please no.
The phone was submerged when I fell into the freezing water. I crawl into the front seat of Jason’s car to look for his phone, but it must be in his pocket because I can’t find it anywhere.
This can’t be happening.
I climb out of the car and run into the road, the rain pouring down around me.
On some level, I know I’m freezing, shivering, but my body has gone numb and all I can think about is Adam down there in the river.
He never learned to swim. How will he get out of that car?
How will he ever make it to shore? Please , I pray. Please let Jason get to him in time.
A pair of headlights swings around the bend in the road, dragging me from my stupor. I wave my arms and yell until I’m hoarse. For a moment, I’m afraid the driver doesn’t see me through the rain and darkness, but at the last second, the car comes to a screeching halt.
“Damn it, girl. I nearly hit you,” the middle-aged woman in the driver’s seat says as I lean onto the window frame.