"Buy a house, a car, designer bags—spend it however you want."
When I opened my eyes again, everything looked wrong.
I was floating above the bridge. The night wind passed through my body, but I felt nothing.
Below, the river flowed in silence.
No commotion. As if nothing had happened.
Headlights cut through the darkness, approaching fast.
A Maybach. I recognized the logo from the mall where I worked.
The window was half-open. The young man in the passenger seat made me freeze.
Zachary Abbott—the one Dad hadn't shut up about six years ago.
He said sponsoring that mountain orphan was the best thing he'd ever done.
Said he was smart, sensible, had excellent grades.
And the middle-aged man in the back seat, chatting and laughing—
That was my father.
Not the father from my memory, crushed by illness and debt, his brow permanently creased.
His complexion was rosy. His expression relaxed.
He was smiling, patting Zach's shoulder, saying something I couldn't hear.
Zach smiled back. Easy. Natural. Close.
The car sped past, leaving me frozen in the cold air.
I followed.
The Maybach crossed the bridge and pulled into the villa neighborhood I'd envied before I jumped.