Page 40 of Silent Neighbor

The video of her panic attack had gone viral in the worst way possible, spreading through the climbing community like wildfire. The comments had been brutal, questioning her skills and mocking her fear. Some had suggested she give up climbing altogether, that she was a danger to herself and others. She'd retreated from the online community, nursing her wounded pride in private, the harsh words echoing in her mind during sleepless nights.

But not tonight. Tonight, she was going to prove to herself—and to everyone else—that she was still a force to be reckoned with. She was more than just a caregiver, more than a disappointed wife or a failing daughter-in-law. She was Ellen Reeves, climber, adventurer, conqueror of mountains.

Her decision made, Ellen quickly packed her gear, the familiar routine bringing a sense of calm and purpose. She wasn't going to tell Troy or anyone else where she was going. Let them worry. It served them right for suffocating her dreams, for turning her into someone she barely recognized.

The drive to the nearby cliff was short, the roads empty at this late hour. As Ellen parked and began her hike to the base, a thrill of excitement coursed through her. This was what she'd been missing—the solitude, the challenge, the promise of conquest. The beam of her headlamp cut through the darkness, illuminating the path ahead, each step taking her further from the life she'd come to resent and closer to the person she used to be.

At the base of the cliff, Ellen set up her night-vision camera, positioning it carefully to capture her ascent. She wanted proof of this moment, evidence of her triumph over fear and doubt. Then, with practiced movements that felt both familiar and strange after so long, she began to climb.

She had climbed this section a number of times before, but always with ropes. This would be her first solo attempt.

The familiar strain in her muscles felt good, like awakening from a long slumber. The rock was cool and rough beneath her fingers, each handhold a small victory. She pushed herself harder, moving faster than was strictly safe, needing to prove her skill not just to others, but to herself.

Halfway up, disaster nearly struck. Her foot slipped on a loose bit of rock, sending a shower of pebbles cascading down the cliff face. For a heart-stopping moment, Ellen felt herself falling, the world tilting crazily around her. But her hands held firm, her upper body strength keeping her anchored to the cliff face.

She paused, heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat, before continuing her ascent with renewed determination.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, she reached the top. Exhausted but exhilarated, Ellen pulled herself onto the flat surface of the cliff top. She lay back, the rough stone cool against her overheated skin, and stared up at the star-studded sky.

So beautiful, and so very wild.

As her pulse slowed and the adrenaline began to ebb, Ellen's thoughts drifted back to her home situation. Maybe there was a better solution, a way to honor her commitment to Troy's parents without completely sacrificing their own lives. Maybe she and Troy could look into hiring a part-time caregiver, giving them some of their freedom back. They could start small—a date night once a week, maybe a weekend climbing trip once a month.

She felt a pang of guilt for leaving without saying anything. Troy would be worried sick if he woke up and found her gone. Despite everything, she didn't want to hurt him. He was trying his best, caught between his love for her and his duty to his parents. Maybe it was time they had an honest conversation about their future, about finding a balance that worked for everyone.

A noise startled Ellen from her reverie. It was faint at first, barely audible over the soft whisper of the wind. But as she strained her ears, it became clearer—a rustling sound, like movement. Maybe an animal nearby? In the darkness, her imagination conjured images of mountain lions or bears, their eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Curious despite herself, Ellen rolled onto her stomach and crawled to the edge of the cliff. The rocks were sharp against her palms as she peered down into the darkness, her eyes straining to make out any movement in the shadows below.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Just the quiet night, the distant hoot of an owl, the gentle susurration of leaves in the breeze. Ellen was about to dismiss the sound as her imagination when she heard it again—closer this time, unmistakable. The scrape of boot against rock, the soft grunt of exertion.

Someone was climbing the cliff.

Ellen's heart began to race, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin despite the cool night air. Who could it be? Another climber, seeking the same late-night thrill? But why climb in almost complete darkness? It was reckless, dangerous.

Was someone following her?

"Hello?" she called. "Is someone there?"

No answer.

She strained her eyes, trying to see the climber, but it was too dark. She pulled out her flashlight and swept the beam along the cliff face. Still nothing.

Maybe they're on the other side, she thought.

She crossed to the opposite side of the cliff. She peered over, tracking the beam of the flashlight with her eyes. Nothing. Except—

Movement just below her caught her eye, and she swept the beam down. A figure was clinging to the rock face mere feet below her.

Her first thought was that he, like she, had gotten himself into a bad situation and was paralyzed with fear. She should offer a hand, help him up. Then, before she could act on this impulse, his own hand came up.

And clamped around her leg.

Before she could react, her leg was jerked out from beneath her and she stumbled, landing hard on a stone. She turned over on her belly, desperately reaching for something to grab even as the weight of her body pulled her over the edge.

Her hand brushed something—a shirt, a belt—but her fingers slipped before they could get a firm hold. She slipped down and down into darkness.

Into oblivion.

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