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“And he was attacked. Stabbed…”
“And he ended up in the water….oh God…someone pushed him.”
“Or he jumped because he had no other way to escape.”
“How far from the bridge deck to the water?”
“Greer…”
“I want to know how far he fell.”
“The police don’t know exactly where he was on the bridge. At its highest point, we’re looking at two hundred feet.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t want him to know how upset I was, how guilty I felt that Danny died helping me. That he thought maybe we could be more someday. I didn’t say anything else, just lay stretched out on my stomach, naked on the bed, until he let himself out. Until I heard the squeal of the back door, all the way up in my room.
I wondered briefly if he was on his way to another woman. It seemed unlikely, considering how wrapped up in love with each other we were just a few nights ago. But that was before I’d broken his trust by meeting with his ex, self-medicating behind his back, and nearly flinging myself off the house in a weird, fear-fueled psychosis.
