“Cora!” Her name tears from my throat as I lunge forward, my fingers grasping at theempty air where she stood just a moment ago.
The world narrows to a single point. Cora, tumbling down the cliff face. I don’t think, I don’t hesitate. My body moves on pure instinct, honed by years of training and experience.
I scan the cliff face, mapping out a route even as I begin my descent. My fingers find holds in the rock, muscles straining as I climb down as fast as I dare. Every second is like an eternity, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
“Cora!” I call out, my voice rough with fear and exertion. “Answer me!”
A faint groan reaches my ears, and relief floods through me. She’s alive.
I spot her about twenty feet below, sprawled on a narrow ledge. Her body is still, save for the slight rise andfall of her chest. From this distance, I can’t see any obvious injuries, but that doesn’t mean much.
“I’m coming!” I shout, doubling my efforts to reach her. “Just hold on.”
As I near the ledge, I realize the precariousness of her position. One wrong move, and she could slip off, plummeting to the ground far below. I have to be careful but quick.
I reach the ledge, maneuvering myself so I’m positioned above her. “Cora,” I say, not wanting to startle her. “Can you hear me?”
Her eyelids flutter, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Ryder?”
Relief washes over me at the sound of her voice. “I’m here. Don’t move, okay? I skim my hands over her, checking her out. “Anything hurt?”
She moves her arms and legs carefully. “Just my pride.”
“I’m going to get you out of here.”
I assess the situation. The ledge is too narrow for me to pull her up without risking both of us falling. We’ll have to go down.
“Cora, listen to me,” I say, keeping my voice calm despite the fear coursing through my veins. “We’re going to have to climb down. I’ll guide you every step of the way. Do you understand?”
She nods, wincing at the movement.
“Okay, I’m going to help you up now.”
I reach down, grasping her arms. With painstaking care, I help her to her feet. She sways, and I pull her close, pressing her between my body and the cliff face.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur into her hair. “I won’t let you fall.”
We begin our slow descent. Every movement is calculated,every step carefully placed. Cora trembles in my arms, whether from fear or pain, I’m not sure. Probably both.
“You’re doing great,” I encourage her, even as my own muscles scream from the strain. “We’re almost there.”
After what feels like hours, but is only minutes, we reach the bottom. As soon as our feet touch solid ground, Cora’s legs give out. I catch her before she can fall, scooping her up into my arms.
“I’ve got you,” I repeat, cradling her against my chest. “You’re safe now.”
She buries her face in my neck, her body shaking with silent sobs. Relief and anger war within me—relief that she’s alive, anger at her recklessness.
“Why?” I ask, my voice rough with emotion. “Why did you stand so close to the edge?”
She pulls back, her tear-streaked face a mask of guilt and shame. “I... I don’t know. I just wanted to see...”
“See what?” I interrupt, harsher than I intend. “If you could fall off a cliff?”
She flinches at my tone, and I immediately regret my outburst. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
“I’m sorry,” I say softer. “I was scared, Cora. I thought I’d lost you.”
Fresh tears well up in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to… I know you’re just doing your job.”
