He presses a knife to her throat as he backs toward the edge of the second floor. There are no windows. Nothing to stop them. Nothing to catch her.
I take a step.
He takes one back.
I freeze.
“Don’t do this,” I say, my voice shaking. “Please.”
“I have nothing left,” he says.
He moves the knife away from her throat.
I look at Emily. I shake my head slowly, silently begging her not to move. My chest hurts so badly I can barely breathe.
She doesn’t listen.
She shoves him.
For a second, everything slows. His foot slips. Her body moves. His hand grabs her, pulling her with him.
I run.
I run faster than I ever have.
But I am already too late.
She is falling.
“No,” I scream.
My hand catches hers. My fingers lock around her wrist. The skin burns as my arm shakes. I hold on with everything I have.
“Zayne,” she whispers. Her grip slips. “Please.”
“I won’t,” I say. “I won’t let you go.”
I hold on to the last piece of hope I have left.
Her hands are wet, her fingers slide, and then she lets go.
She falls to the ground, and around her, nothing but dirt and blood.
I stagger back, staring at the empty space. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“No,” I whisper.
“No.”
My body moves without permission. I run down the stairs, down to the back of the building.
They are there.
So close to each other.
I drop beside her.
But I am too late.
