Chapter 9 - THE CLIFF AND THE CHOICE
We raced up the mountain. The road narrowed. Guardrails thinned away to nothing. On one side, rock face. On the other, a sheer drop into trees and mist.
Ahead, we saw it — Elena’s car. Swerving. Too fast for the curves.
Marlow spoke into his radio, ordering units to block the road ahead. To force her to stop safely.
Then, around a sharp bend, we saw what happened. Elena had taken the turn too fast. The car had drifted across the road, hit loose gravel, and now hung half off the edge of the guardrail, teetering. One wheel spun in empty air.
We skidded to a halt.
Marlow and I jumped out before the car had fully stopped. Other officers arrived seconds later.
Elena sat behind the wheel, pale and staring straight ahead. Sophie was in the backseat, strapped into her car seat, white-faced and perfectly still. She was terrified, but she was alive.
The car shifted. Metal groaned.
“Stay back!” Elena screamed through the open window. “If anyone comes closer, I drive us off. Do not think I will not do it. I have nothing left to lose.”
“Elena, listen to me,” Marlow said, holding his hands up and stepping forward slowly. “Let the girl go. Walk away. We can talk about this. There is still time to make things right.”
“Right?” Elena laughed wildly. “Nothing was ever right! Claire took everything. Even in death she takes everything. Well — if I cannot have it — then no one will. Not her. Not Adrian. Not that little girl.”
The car tipped another inch. Stones rattled down the slope.
Sophie turned her head and saw me. Her eyes filled with tears, but she did not scream. She only whispered one word that cut straight through my soul.
“Daddy.”
Elena followed her gaze. She looked at me. And then she looked down at the car’s gear shift. Her hand moved toward it.
I stepped forward, past Marlow’s outstretched arm.
“Stop!” Marlow called.
I kept walking until I stood right beside the hanging car.
“Elena,” I said, steady and clear. “You do not want to hurt her. I know you do not. She is Claire’s daughter. She looks just like her. Think of your sister. Think of little Claire. Would you hurt her?”
Elena hesitated. Her hand trembled. Tears spilled down her face.
“She has to pay for what Claire did,” Elena whispered.
“Claire did not do this,” I said. “You did. All of this was your choice. But you can choose differently now. Let Sophie out. And then whatever happens… happens. But do not do this. Do not destroy yourself and a child for something that will not matter when you are both gone.”
The car groaned again. It was slipping.
Elena looked at Sophie. Then at me. And for one heartbeat, her resolve broke. She reached back with shaking hands and fumbled with the car-seat buckle.
The car shifted sharply. Elena lost her balance. Her foot slipped. The engine revved. The car lurched forward.
“Sophie!” I lunged through the open rear door. I grabbed my daughter in both arms and hauled her out just as the car tipped.
Behind us, Elena screamed.
Marlow and I threw ourselves back from the edge, Sophie safe between us. We looked down. The car had swung back at the very last second, catching against a jagged outcrop of rock. It hung suspended, metal screaming, still holding Elena.
Officers rushed forward with ropes and extraction gear. Minutes later, Elena was pulled to safety — shaking, bruised, alive. She looked up at me as officers placed her in cuffs. There was no more fury left in her face. Only exhaustion. And defeat.
May you like
I knelt on the grass and held Sophie. She wrapped her arms around my neck and sobbed into my shoulder. She was trembling, but she was whole. She was safe.
“I’ve got you,” I kept whispering. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
