“I know, but she needs my help—”
I grab ahold of the axe handle. She tries to tug it away, but I hold on tight.
“I know you feel responsible for her. But if you’re right, she’s already killed one person this weekend. You’re not going out there alone.”
My turn to tug on the axe, but instead of freeing it from her grasp, it pulls her closer to me. Her breath feels warm against my skin.
“She came all the way up here because she needed help. She asked once before, and I turned her away. I chose not to open that door. If you could go back and pick up Claire’s phone, instead of leaving it for your father to find, would you?”
“Yes.” I don’t even need to think about it.
“Then you understand. I have a chance to put things right here.” She slides her hand down and twines her fingers around mine. Now together, we’re holding the axe. “This is a door I can open.”
I let her gently pry it from my grasp.
“I’ll be back soon,” she says, her mouth ghosting over mine. “Promise.”
37GREER
SOMETHING FLICKERSin the distance.
The fog’s much thicker along the coast, but as I draw closer, I can make out the bridge’s railings bordering either side. Even now, the sight of it churns up something deep in my belly. When Tom picked me up, I was only twelve hours away from my final destination. If it had been anyone else—a long-haul trucker, a retiree on vacation—I’d be dead.
The river crashes against the rocks below, and while I can’t see the current from here, the smells of mud and algae drift up on the breeze. If not for Tom, my bones would be down there right now, scattered among those rocks, crabs poking their pincers through the eye sockets of my skull.
The thought sends a shudder through me. It’sa lot.
There’s no sign of Audrey, but I can’t see anything past the first few balusters. Tightening my grip around the axe handle, I start making my way across. A blue glow appears, diffused by the haze. As I step nearer, the glow shrinks and tightens into a circle; that’s when I realize what it is.
A blue light bulb.
Installed above a phone.
I freeze. Nic was right: This has to be a trap. That light bulb was not here when we crossed the bridge at the beginning of this weekend. I didn’t fall into Tom’s trap back then, and I’m not going to fall into this one now. I’m about to turn around when a sound echoes through the gorge, high and tinny:
Brrrng.
It bounces off the rocky cliffs and gets swallowed by the water below. The pine trees seem to vibrate, their needles stiff with tension. I should keep going—back to the shack, back to Nic—but something pins me to the cement. I drop my head back, stare at the sky as the phone rings again. Can I really turn my back on her a second time? After everything she’s been through?
Another ring.
“Fuck me.” I stride to where the phone’s secured to the railing.CRISIS COUNSELING, reads the sign above it.THE CONSEQUENCES OF JUMPING FROM THIS BRIDGE ARE FATAL AND TRAGIC. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. MAKE THE CALL.
I crouch down to search the pavement for any hidden snares. It looks clean, but there’s no way to know for sure. Just as the phone starts to ring again, I unhook the receiver and press it to my cheek. “Hello, Audrey.”
“Hello, Steffani.”
I scan the road, the cliffs, anywhere she might be hiding, but the fog has settled, thick as a wool blanket, across the landscape.
“I spent a long time searching for you,” she continues. “Three days locked in that shack. I tried to memorize as many names as I could, but yours was at the bottom of the list. I mentioned you to the police, but they told me I was wrong, that therewasno Steffani. I let them convince me that you were a mistake. It wasn’t until I saw the crime scene photos that I realized someone had scratched your name off the list. Someone didn’t want you to be found.”
“Maybe you should’ve taken the hint.”
She laughs; it’s not a nice sound. “Didn’t help that yours was the only one without a last name. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a missing persons report for an out-of-state bounty hunter that everything started clicking together. His car was last seen a few miles away from the shack. A blue Ford Taurus.
“You were easy to track down after that. Although I can’t tell you how shocked I was when I finally uncovered your photo in a high school yearbook and realized that you were the same girl who’d called nine-one-one and saved my life. You look different now, but after that night, I would recognize you anywhere. Tom Woods’sdaughter.” She spits out the word like it’s gone rancid. “Except you’re not, are you? You’re a victim—just like me. You knew all along what he was.”
“I didn’t know he was still abducting women. He promised he was done with all that—”
