She’d never had any intention of jumping. She wasn’t afraid of heights, for one, and didn’t killing yourself somehow mean facing your fear, or overcoming it, or giving in to it, or something? Amanda couldn’t remember. Back then, it had been such a long time since she’d thought about that sort of thing. But she hadn’t been afraid of the catwalk. And she hadn’t been thinking about suicide, she’d been thinking about the opposite. Well, not the opposite—what was the opposite of suicide?
