Fallen Foe (Cruel Castaways, #2)

by L.J. Shen

Not that I’m contemplating suicide. This banister is wide and not very long. I can do it. Just one time, for old times’ sake. Grace’s voice is throaty and tempting in my head. Even beyond the grave, she entices me to do the wrong thing. Glancing behind my shoulder, I make sure the coast is clear. It’s just me outside. I hop on the banister, righting myself until I stand up straight across the surface. I don’t look down. The first step is solid. The second makes me feel alive. I spread my arms in the air, like Grace and I used to do when we were kids. I close my eyes. “Time me,” I mouth. And I can hear her in my mind answering. Three. Two. One. Go! I take another step, and then another. I’m almost at the end. One more step . . . and my foot doesn’t land the hard surface this time. It’s all air beneath it. I sway. Lose my balance. Tip to the left. It all happens fast. The memory of Grace falling slams into me again. The tears. The pleas. The silence. I’m going to be pancaked to the street in a few seconds. You shouldn’t have done that, idiot. I’m falling. Out of nowhere, sharp, desperate claws sink into my right arm. They rip at my suit, pulling me back into safety. My body slams against a hard surface. The balcony’s floor. I’m a jumbled mess of limbs. Not all of them mine. Some of them small and lean and hot and all foreign flesh.

Im rooting for you and winnie but im still sorry yall both lost love that was never yours