CHAPTER ONE
Chloe Saunders had long since given up the notions of a higher power or fate. If fate was real, she reasoned as she briskly walked down the snow-laden sidewalk, then her mom and uncle would still be around. At that train of thought, her lips rolled deeper into her mouth, pinched between her angry teeth.
When she was little, her mom and uncle would tell her stories about guardian angels. That they hid among humans and protected everyone—which she now knew was complete shit—but as a little kid, it made it easier to sleep at night.
Sucking in a quick breath, she jogged across the street quickly and crossed the snow-wet grass. Her sneakers and the ends of her pants were frigid and wet as she walked across the lawn of the cemetery, weaving between the crooked headstones as she looked at the names.
Nelson…Patterson…Ricci….Saunders.
Her stomach lurched like it always did. Her sigh came out as a misty cloud as she knelt down, wiping away the snow that had wedged itself in the engravings of their names.
Chloe rubbed her cold hands along her face, pushing her hair out of the way with a scowl. The whole saying "time heals wounds" had been a complete lie. It had been five years since she lost them and the hurt never went away; if anything the gaping hole festered and was slowly rotting, infecting her.
"Hey," she said quietly, running her thumb across the dates of their deaths with a sad, tiny smile. "Sorry I didn't come out yesterday. Lauren wanted some good old family bonding. You know, shopping. Of course, Dad didn't come; he said, and I quote, 'I have some work things to do,' which I know is code for him not caring."
A mirthless laugh bubbled out of her as she smashed some icy chunks between her fingers. "I swear, he thinks stores are the worst thing ever. He buys everything off Amazon now. It's gotten ridiculous to be honest. I'm pretty sure he's turning into a hermit but of course Lauren doesn't care. Oh, did I tell you Amber whacked off all her hair? Gave it to that hair charity that you liked." Another laugh, this one filled to the brim with sadness.
She grew quiet, her jaw tight, and then she got to her feet. Her knees hurt, and her hands had gone numb; she could hardly feel her cheeks anymore.
"I gotta go," she said quietly, using the inside of her wrist to wipe away the tears that threatened to drip down her face. "Lauren will be pissed if I don't come home before dark." She swallowed thickly, tracing the familiar curves and lines of their names before she turned away quickly and forced herself to walk away. If she had to choose, she'd spend her time freezing her ass off in the cemetery.
The walk back was relatively calm; aside from the sparse traffic and shrieks of playing kids, nothing was out of the ordinary.
On a whim, she walked along the bridge, a cold breeze cutting through her heavy winter jacket, pushing her hair behind her as she strode briskly. The half-melted snow crunched under her sneakers, and she gazed out quietly at the blue-gray waters that always reminded her of her mom and aunt's eyes.
She clenched the railing, the rough edges of the paint flaking off onto her skin, and drew a deep breath. Icy air filtered into her lungs, cutting off the edge of her grief-filled thoughts.
"Hey." The voice was deep, dark, and angry.
Mindful of the snow and ice, she turned and saw a man standing a few feet away. Even with the space between them, she could see he was tall and imposing. "What do you want?" she asked flatly and then realized her defensive tone admittedly wasn't the best way to respond to him—he probably thought she was thinking of jumping.
When he stepped closer, she couldn't help but step backwards. The railing bumped into her lower back and her left foot slipped a tiny bit, making her heart stutter.
"Easy now," he snapped, his eyes shifting between her feet and the river behind her.
Annoyance filtered into her system. "What's your problem?" she asked, trying to stealthily side-walk out of his range. Her stomach was twisting at the way he kept his hands up like he was talking her off the edge and she stepped forward, ready to sprint home. Unfortunately she hadn't seen the patch of ice underneath and pitched backwards, knocking back into the trailing.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" the guy demanded, his eyebrows slanting over his eyes.
Chloe sputtered at the accusation. "What's your deal? Even if I was, it's none of your business." The railing dug into her back uncomfortably and she could faintly hear some sort of creaking. A prickly sense of dread ran up her spine, ominous.
The guy glowered at her. "So you're just gonna jump? Over what? Some guy said no thanks when you asked him out?" he spat.
That really pissed her off. Big talk for a guy who knew absolutely nothing about her.
Her teeth clicked and ached when she ground them. "Listen, you rude asshole—" she started, her voice low and angry, but as she stepped forward, her foot hit that same patch of ice again, only this time she lost her balance and fell backwards against the rusty railing…and the metal gave way.
She barely had the chance to suck in a breath before she hit the water and the force of her fall pushed her deep into the raging waves.