Page 12 of Break Your Fall

Reyna’s paintings and drawings have been pulled from the walls, the paper from a few of the drawings torn. Framed photos—several of all of us—have been pushed face-down on the shelves, a couple on the floor. Her easel is laying near my feet, canvases strewn about. The toe of my sneaker hits against the side of an empty wine glass. . .

Shit.

A lifetime of memories and accomplishments lay unwanted at our feet.

“Self-expression at its finest,” Camille comments with worry in her voice, having the same understanding that this was Reyna’s doing.

Reyna’sundoing. She’s unraveling, and my chest squeezes the longer I stare at the fallout.

“Reyna,” Camille hollers her name as she takes off to search the rest of the house, and I start to follow when my phone vibrates. I yank it from my pocket, stopping dead for a second time at the three-word text.

I need you

My heart that feels like it’s been sputtering, barely there, soars to life at Reyna’s message.

She still trusts me.

She still wants me to find her.

My stomach drops with concern when I send off a quick,Where are you?as I’m running back out the door.

4

You Know Me

Thomas

My text goes unanswered as I drive to the lighthouse, my attention pulled from the windshield to my phone in the passenger seat, the black screen heckling me as I wait for it to light up with another vibration, something to convince me Reyna hasn’t changed her mind, that she hasn’t convinced herself shedoesn’tneed me.

She might still need me, but that doesn’t mean she wants me.

I could send another text, but I don’t want to pressure her into answering.She needs me.She wants me with her. I need her to still want me with her. To show me herself, like she showed me last night when she came to the lighthouse—for me, herself.

I drive there first, my foot sinking into a clump of dirt, still wet from the storm, the moment I step out of the car. I catch myself with the door before I can fall to the ground two nights in a row.

The first time wasn’t a bad sign—just me overestimating a jump—because I still found Reyna right after, but this time, it’s a bad sign, because all I find when I open the door to the lighthouse is darkness.

The light’s not inside.

Not seeing Reyna sitting back against the wall with the lantern lit dwindles my hope that I’ll find her tonight.

It’s cooler on this side, shadowed, making it seem almost dark out. Grass rustles behind me as the waves crash against the rocks, the tips reaching the top of the cliff. There’s a spooky vibe that sends every hair I have on the back of my neck and my arms sticking straight up. It’s a feeling I chase, in every scary movie I watch, all the way to the haunted attractions every October to feel like I’m in one of those scary movies without actually harboring the fear of being killed off. And it’s a feeling I want to chase now more than ever to distract myself from the very real panic I don’t want to feel at the thought of something bad happening to Reyna.

She reached for me, then went silent. And at a time like this, my head is still jumping to every worst-case scenario.

She’s hurt.

She’s trapped somewhere.

She needs more than just a listening ear.

Imight need to chill out with the movies, switch my taste to comedies—at least for now.

I’d love to be able to laugh at all my current situations.

I haul ass back to my car and start it up, but I don’t drive away. I wait, for I’m not sure how long, listening for my phone to go off before I grab the damn thing. I’m flipping it through my fingers, ready to toss it back to the seat when it vibrates, and I almost drop it in my scramble to keep it in my hands.

It’s only Camille.Where’d you run off to?

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