The look in her eyes disarms me. She’sterrified, way more than I realized.
“Listen to me, Sadie.” It takes all of my professional discipline to not wrap her in the world’s biggest bear hug right now. “Try to focus on what you know is true, okay? Matteo and Trey and I have done this a thousand times, and none of us have…splatted. There are multiple fail-safe security measures in place. I would absolutelynotsend you over the edge of that cliff if I thought it would end badly.”
She blinks rapidly, fighting tears.
“You don’t have to go just yet,” I tell her. “You really don’t have to go atall.”
Her expression shifts, as if my words have just unlocked something for her.
“I do, though,” she says, with sudden determination that reminds me of Zoe earlier, clearly trying to prove a point to Joshua—only with Sadie, I get the sense that she isn’t trying to prove a single thing to me or anyone else.
She needs to do this for herself.
25SADIE
Focus on what you know is true.
Knowing too much can be a curse: knowing how gravity works, and exactly how far of a fall it would be, and that common sense and self-preservation instincts all screampeople don’t make a habit out of walking off the edge of a cliff for a reason—
All of it feels true to me.
But I get what Thorn means, I think: he wants me to focus on what’s most likely to happen, based on fact and not fear.
“Ready to do this?” Thorn asks when it’s finally my turn.
I’ve watched Parker, and Zoe, and now Silas, all get to the bottom without issue; Emma’s having the same second thoughts that are plaguing me and has decided to wait a bit longer.
I take a deep breath.No, no, no, fear screams in my head.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I’m good.”
Notready, necessarily. But good enough.
“You’ve got this,” he says, his lips barely moving, as he double-checks my harness and the rope and clips me in. “You candothis, Sadie. You can.”
I nod. Swallow. My heart is in my throat.
I was feeling so, so good after this morning. Kissing Thorn in the cave, the way it felt like magic to see that kaleidoscope of sunlight distorted and dancing through the waterfall, even Angry Yoga 2.0—all of it left me feeling calm and centered and confident.
Reality hit the second we got to the top of this cliff. The vertigo was unexpected, and so was my near–panic attack. After all I’ve experienced so far on this trek, I figured I’d desensitized myself to discomfort and this would just be one more challenge—
But my body says otherwise.
My heart is racing, my mouth is dry. My mind keeps spiraling toward fear, not fact. I keep steering it back.
I want to do this, though. Ineedto do it. I’ve come so far and done so much—surely I can do this, too.
Thorn holds out his hand.
I take it, and he gives the smallest squeeze.
You candothis, Sadie. You can.
My nerves settle a little, calmed by the belief he has in me, that in just a few minutes I will get to the bottom in one whole, uninjured piece.
I grasp the climbing rope with both hands. What did Matteo say earlier—that taking that first step over the edge is the hardest part?
I can now confirm: it’s true.
