Time slows in that split second, the deer standing motionless in the middle of the road, its wide eyes locked on mine. My heart lurches into my throat as instinct takes over. Brake, swerve, don’t wipe out, but my mind’s already screamingtoo late.
I yank the handlebars as the tires lose their grip on the gravel. The bike jerks beneath me, throwing me off balance. There’s no saving it now. No miracle recovery. Just the sickening realization that I’m going down, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
The world spins in a violent kaleidoscope of gray skies and green trees. My body becomes weightless, disconnected from the bike I was one with just moments ago. The handlebars wrench free from my grip as I’m catapulted through the air, a helpless trajectory that seems to last forever.
For a heartbeat, I register the glint of the guardrail as I sail over it, the silver flash like a final farewell to solid ground. Then it’s nothing but open air, the rush of water growing louder and louder.
There’s this perfect, terrible moment of suspension where I think,this is going to hurt.
Then gravity remembers I exist.
Wind howls past my helmet as I claw uselessly at nothing. Below, the river waits, swollen and angry. I hit the water with the force of a sledgehammer, the impact knocking every molecule of air from my lungs.
Christ, it’s cold. Like thousands of needles stabbing every inch of my skin. The current immediately seizes me, tumbling me like I’m nothing more than a pebble.
The river roars its victory as it drags me under.
thirty-three
BREE
“Bree—”
Lucy’s voice crackles through the line in a distraught, breathless rush of words I can barely understand. There’s one, though, that hits me like a lightning strike.
Accident.
The world tilts. My heart slams against my ribs, and my lungs refuse to pull in enough air. A cold, trembling wave of panic rises.
I press the phone closer to my ear, as if anything could make this less terrifying. My words come out in broken pieces, shaky gasps strung together. “Is he okay?”
The silence on the other end is its own answer. When Lucy finally speaks, her voice is frayed, barely holding it together. “We… We haven’t found him yet.”
My knuckles burn from gripping the phone so hard. Everything else is drowned out by the rising anxiety threading through me. My voice trembles as I ask, “What do you mean you haven’t found him?”
I don’t care if I’m causing a scene. I don’t care who’s staring.None of that matters. My worst nightmare is unraveling right in front of me, and I’m powerless to stop it. Thousands of miles away, and I can’t do a damn thing. It’s suffocating. I’m suffocating.
Lucy’s words spill into my ear in a frantic, disjointed stream of information that doesn’t make sense. “His bike was found on the side of the road near the river, but Callan… He’s not there. They think he might have…”
She trails off, her words cracking like brittle glass. The silence that follows feels louder than anything. She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.
The images flood my mind anyway. Callan’s face, pale and strained, the water crashing over him and dragging him under. His arms fighting against the current, his breath too shallow, the river swallowing him whole. I feel the overpowering, desperate need for air in my own lungs.
I slam my eyes shut, squeezing them tight. Maybe if I shut everything out, it’ll stop. But the thoughts come faster, each one worse than the last. Every possible worst-case scenario plays out so quickly I can’t outrun the terror.
Panic sinks its claws deep, settling in my bones. My voice cracks, ragged and shaky, as I choke out, “No, no, no… This isn’t happening. It can’t be.”
But itis.
“I’m coming,” I say, forcing the words through a throat that feels too tight. My voice steadies just enough, but inside, I’m falling apart. “I’ll be on the next flight out.”
I don’t wait for Lucy’s response. I can’t. My finger slams down on the end call button, and I set the phone down, my hand shaking so violently I nearly drop it. It takes me a second to realize I’m holding my breath. The room is closing in around me, the walls pressing in tighter with every agonizing second of silence.
Across the table, Dillon’s eyes are locked on me, his face morphing into a mask of alarm. I’m already coming apart at the seams, the panic swelling up inside me too big to contain.
“I have to go.”
Dillon pushes back his chair, his voice edged with worry. “What’s going on?”
