How was she supposed to prove anything to those who doubted her? Maybe death was the only way to silence it all.
Her thoughts tangled into knots, frayed and broken, as she stared into the sunâs harsh glare, the wind whipping around her.
The security guard, now desperate, dialed the police. âHello? You have to hurry! Thereâs a woman on the roof about to jump!â
Joelle stood there, motionless, for almost an hour. Below, a crowd began to form, their eyes fixed on the spectacle. Firefighters scrambled to set up an air cushion, though it would take time.
âIsnât that Joelle Watson?â someone in the crowd whispered. âThe woman whose son died?â The murmur spread quickly.
âDo you think sheâs really going to jump, or is this some kind of stunt?â
One girl elbowed her boyfriend in disgust. âHow can you be so heartless? Youâd push her over the edge with that attitude!â
He shrugged, unfazed. âShe wonât jump. Sheâs got too much to live forâmoney, status. If I were her, I wouldnât even think about it.â
The girl, unable to reason with him, fell silent.
At the building entrance, police had cordoned off the area, but they knew pushing too hard could provoke her. Only two female officers were allowed to go up.
Find your imagination at galn ovels ; con Joelle sat on the railing, her legs swinging freely over the edge.
Even with her eyes closed, she couldnât find peace, as a chorus of voices echoed in her heart.
âMs. Watson, please, letâs talk. Whatever youâre going through, we can help!â
But Joelle treated their words like the windâpassing by, unnoticed.
She didnât want help. She wanted peace. Silence.
âDonât come any closer!â she warned.
âWe understand,â the officer promised. âWeâre just here for you. Whatever you need, weâre here to listen.â
Joelle didnât respond, her mind elsewhere, wondering where Ryland might be now. Was he out there somewhere? Or was he just gone?
Joelleâs possible jump quickly became a headline and was streamed live, catching Callanâs attention in no time.
Adrian was in the middle of a busy day when Callan burst into his office, completely disregarding any sense of decorum.
âHey, Mr. Miller, Ms. Watson is on the edge of a building, about to jump!â
Adrian blinked, as if the words were in a language he didnât understand.
Joelle had been her usual self when she left that morning. And just hours ago, she had texted him about dinner. Since Rylandâs death, Joelle had been struggling, but she was seeing a therapist. She had been doing better, hadnât she?
Callan drove like a maniac, and Adrian sat beside him, unable to tear his eyes away from the live stream. His heart raced with dread, anticipating the moment when that fragile figure might fall.
.
.
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