Save Me at the River (Crossing Bridges Duet #2)

Chapter 1

Another tear falls onto the page I’ve read a dozen times since the police officer brought it to us.

We had already been here in this cold, bleach-soaked waiting room for hours when two cops came to question everyone.

They had found this blue notebook, said that it was clear it was meant for us to have it.

It took me two hours to get the courage to read it.

Then another hour just to finish it.

And no matter how many times I’ve read it, it still destroys me.

Hud was hurting so much more than I realized.

He told me. God, he told me.

And I kept giving him speeches instead of seeing what was right in front of me.

Keep fighting. Keep holding on. Things will get better.

Like words were enough to keep him away from that ledge.

My stomach twists.

Maybe I helped push him there.

As soon as the thought digs in, the memory of Mrs. Nora’s scream crackles through my head again, making me flinch. Dad had barely gotten the words out before it ripped through the phone, raw and feral, filling the truck. My chest seized with every wail that rang out.

Now it lives in my head beside the sick crack of water when Hudson’s body hit the river.

It’s two sounds I wish I could scrub from my brain.

And a nightmare I desperately wish I could wake up from.

We don’t even know what’s happening with Hud. No doctor has spoken to us since we got here last night, and the silence is becoming unbearable.

The waiting room walls feel tighter every hour we don't hear anything. The bleach smell is lodged in the back of my throat, and the fluorescent lights burn behind my eyes.

Down on the street below, people keep moving. Laughing. Living their normal lives, while mine feels like it stopped on the riverbank.

I force myself to look away from the window and drag my eyes around the room.

Mrs. Nora hasn’t let go of Hudson’s dad in hours. Every once in a while, her shoulders start shaking again, and he just pulls her closer like he’s afraid she’ll fall apart completely if he loosens his grip.

Across the room, Hadley stares blankly at the floor while Ella talks beside her. I don’t even think Hadley hears a word of it.

She looks haunted, and I wonder if her actions lately are weighing her down.

I know mine are.

My hands rub my arms absently. The river still feels stuck to my skin even after the shower the hospital let us use in the physicians’ lounge.

Mom brought us clean clothes hours ago, but neither time nor the hospital soap could wash away the memory of us dragging Hudson’s lifeless body out of the water.

I take a sip of the new coffee Mom pressed into my hands at some point and think about how Dad keeps telling us to hold onto hope. How his voice never cracks, never waivers.

I wish I knew how he does that.

Because hope feels impossible after watching the person you love disappear beneath dark water.

“Family of Hudson Daniels?”

My head snaps to the left at the sound of Hudson’s name. I’m on my feet in an instant, notebook still clutched to my chest. Chairs scrape loudly as everyone crowds around the older doctor.

My heart is hammering against my ribs, hands clammy as I stare at him, dreading what he has to say.

“I’m Dr. Mansley,” he announces, shaking hands quickly. “I’ve been overseeing Hudson’s care since he arrived.”

He exhales slowly, tired lines creasing the corner of his eyes.

His expression is heavy as his gaze moves between all of us.

“I wish I had better news,” he says gently.

“Hudson fell about forty feet and hit the water with significant force. By the time he was pulled out, he’d been submerged for several minutes. ”

Submerged.

The word punches through me all over again. The vision of Hudson facedown in the water as I frantically swam towards him burned into the back of my eyelids.

“His heart stopped on the way here, but the paramedics were able to revive him.” He pauses briefly, giving us time to absorb the news. “After he arrived at the hospital, his heart stopped again, and our team had to work to bring him back a second time.”

The room sways slightly beneath my feet.

“Once his heartbeat came back, he began seizing, which suggested brain swelling. Once he was stabilized, we took him for an MRI to confirm.”

Nobody says anything. The only sound is the hum from the air conditioning and Hadley’s uneven breathing beside me.

“The scan did confirm cerebral edema, and he’s had multiple seizures since. He’s currently on a ventilator and in a medically induced coma to aid the healing of his brain.”

All the air whooshes from my lungs, acrid vomit creeping up my throat. I brace myself on my knees, my eyes scrunched closed as I wait for the room to stop spinning.

“The good news is his heart rhythm is getting stronger by the hour. Aside from that, he has a dislocated shoulder, a number of abrasions and lacerations… and he’s showing early signs of DAP.”

“DAP?” Mrs. Daniels asks, her voice thin and shaking.

“Drowning-Associated Pneumonia,” Dr. Mansley explains.

“It’s an infection that develops quite rapidly.

We’ve started aggressive IV antibiotics to fight the bacteria in his lungs, but we’re hopeful since we caught it early.

However, the next forty-eight hours are still critical.

We will be on the lookout for delayed symptoms and illnesses. ”

“When can we see him?” I ask before I can stop myself. I need to see him. Hold his hand. Tell him I love him, even if he can’t hear me.

“Are you family?”

“Yes,” Hadley says quietly before I can speak.

My head jerks in her direction.

What?

Mr. and Mrs. Daniels gape, too. It’s the first word she’s uttered since stepping into the room, and she’s the very last person I expected to speak up for me.

“Visiting hours start in about fifteen minutes,” the doctor says. “Two visitors at a time. You’ll need to wear PPE to protect Hudson. His immune system’s compromised.”

He shakes our hands again, then he’s off, leaving us in heartbroken silence.

I drop into the nearest chair and drag my hands down my face.

Hudson’s alive.

The words should feel like relief. Instead, terror coils tighter in my chest.

Critical condition. Brain swelling. Forty-eight hours.

He could still slip through my fingers, and I don’t know how to stop it.

Hadley sits beside me and tentatively takes my hand.

I stare at her, but she’s looking down at our entwined fingers. “I know Mom already said it, but… thank you for saving him.”

Mrs. Nora's arms crushed around me so tightly last night that I could barely breathe when she thanked me.

She called me Hudson’s hero.

I didn’t know what to say.

Heroes don’t let the people they love get to the point of jumping in the first place.

“Did you think I’d just watch him jump and accept it?” My throat tightens around the words, my brain instantly throwing me back to Hudson’s body plummeting towards the river before I could stop him.

“No,” she whispers.

Mr. and Mrs. Daniels have already gone back to see Hudson, and my parents aren’t anywhere to be seen. Ella has gone back to her spot in the corner of the waiting room, giving Hadley and me space.

“You know this is our fault. At least, part of it.” The admission guts me, but it’s the truth. Hudson was drowning long before he jumped, and none of us stopped it.

“I told him he’d be doing us all a favor if he jumped off the bridge,” she says, voice breaking.

“I had no idea he was struggling. No one ever told me, and I didn’t care enough to ask.

You were right.” Hadley squirms in her seat.

“I’m selfish. I was so hurt and blinded by you two together that I lashed out.

I wanted my words to hurt. I wanted him to feel the pain that I was going through.

” She starts to cry, her soft sobs floating around me.

Her body shakes, fat tears dropping onto our clasped hands.

My jaw tightens, heat flaring in my chest. “You knew. You saw what you were doing to him. You just didn’t care.

” I yank my hand away and clutch Hud’s notebook, staring at the waiting room doors hard enough for my eyes to ache.

“If you’re looking for someone to absolve you of your sins, you’ve come to the wrong person. ”

“I’m not. I have to live with what I’ve done. I just hope Hud forgives me one day.” She wipes her face, her quiet sniffles the only sound in the room.

My thumb rubs the spine of the notebook before offering it to Hadley. “Here. He’d want you to read it.”

Hadley stares at the notebook for a long second. She’s barely looked at it since the police handed it over. Their parents couldn’t bring themselves to read it, so they gave it to me to keep.

She takes a shuddering breath. “How bad is it?” Her hand shakes as she finally takes it, flipping through the pages until she finds Hudson’s letter.

“It’s a suicide note. What do you think?” The words come out flat and hollow.

Hadley dips her chin, flinching.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

I stand and slowly start pacing, unable to sit still now that I know Hudson is in a room just down the hall. One hand presses against my throbbing ribs, my head not much better.

Dad tried forcing me down to the ER earlier to get my injuries checked out, but I refused. Instead, he convinced one of the ICU nurses to look me over. The concussion and bruised ribs will just need more time to heal.

Whatever.

It was worth it to pull Hud from the river.

The air begins to thicken around me, my heartbeat pounding against my ribs.

I need to get out of here.

I stride out of the waiting room and walk down the long, bright hallway, no destination in mind. The walls feel like they are narrowing, my chest so tight it hurts to breathe.

When the knot finally loosens in my chest, I come to a stop in front of a set of white double doors. There is a sign just above the wood trim—Reflection Room.