The Night Olivia Fell

by Christina McDonald

  I heaved my door open and lunged toward the suspension bridge, vaguely aware that Anthony was right behind me. It was bitterly cold, a deep-down sort of cold that sliced into my skin. The light drizzle picked up, hurled water into my eyes as I crossed the road.

  Tyler was sitting on the low wall at the outermost edge of the bridge. His feet hung over the edge, but his upper body was twisted so he faced me. I stopped, suddenly cautious. I didn’t know what he was capable of.

  I glanced back at where Samson had parked and was calling for backup. A few feet behind me, Anthony waited.

  Would Tyler jump? Did I want him to?

  “Tyler?” I said.

  “Hi, Miss Knight.”

  His eyes were red-rimmed, inflamed, as if he’d been staring too long into the dark. His cheeks glistened damply in the glow of the streetlights.

  “What are you doing there?” I asked, my voice taut and twisted, as if I had a fishhook jammed into my throat. My hands were stiff with cold. I pushed them deep into the pockets of my wool coat.

  “My dad called. Told me you guys were coming.”

  “Why don’t you come over to this side?” I walked slowly, cautiously, toward him, my palm outstretched.

  A gust of wind blew across the bridge, slicing through my coat. I shivered violently and stared into his hollow eyes. Up close he looked older, haunted. His eyes were shrunken in their sockets, his skin stretched over his cheekbones. His fair hair was plastered to his forehead in spiky little lines.

  Tyler ignored my proffered hand. “This is where she fell.”

  A pulse of panic fluttered in my chest, and the world spun and tilted in a dizzying distortion of time. My head thumped and a wave of anger at my own stupidity washed over me.

  It was Tyler.

  Tyler looked out over the roiling water, and suddenly my anger turned outward. White-tipped and scorching, it launched away from me toward Tyler. He was the reason my daughter wasn’t coming back to me.

  The urge to understand the truth warred with a sudden, all-consuming urge to push him. I hated him viciously. I felt the anger, the same red anger I’d felt at Jen, grow inside me, a balloon about to burst. I moved toward him—but at the last second, I stopped.

  If I pushed him, I’d never find out exactly what had happened to Olivia. I needed to know what had happened that night. I needed the truth more than I needed my version of justice.

  “I know you loved her.” My voice was clear and calm, as if someone else were here in my place speaking for me; as if what he said now wouldn’t crack the world in two.

  In the distance, the caterwauling of police sirens wailed. Tyler’s mouth gave a panicky spasm. He jumped up so he was standing on the low wall, his eyes glinting wildly. His nostrils flared. He was surrounded, with nowhere to go but over.

  A sense of urgency seized me. My heart drummed a desperate beat. Despite the icy cold, sweat dampened my palms.

  “You tried to tell me, didn’t you?” The pounding of my chest launched the words from me. “The first day when you came to see me.” I took a step closer to him. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m listening now. Come down here and talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

  His pupils dilated to pools of black. His mouth thinned.

  “Please, Tyler,” I begged him. “Talk to me. For Olivia’s sake.”

  And then the devastation and grief of our shared tragedy finally caught up with him. His face collapsed in on itself, sorrow a heavy weight that bore down on him. His shoulders hitched, and he dropped his head into his hands. A sob wrenched miserably from somewhere deep in his chest.

  “She betrayed me!” The words sounded like they were pieces ripped out of his throat. “She made me look like a fucking fool. But I swear I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Tears streamed down Tyler’s face.

  “What happened that night?”

  “She called me a psycho, and I was so pissed off. It was like I was in a dream, this big, red, cloudy dream. I wanted to stop myself, but it felt like my brain couldn’t catch up to what I was doing, and before I knew it I’d hit her and it was too late to stop myself. I didn’t know she’d die. I didn’t know!”

  His words faded into the wet, sucking sound of intense sobbing. The heaviness inside me became even more oppressive.

  “Why didn’t you call the police? Why didn’t you get help?”

  “She’s a swimmer! I saw her in the water and she was swimming and I thought she’d be okay!” More sobbing. “I didn’t know she was pregnant until you told me. I think . . . I don’t know . . . maybe she tried to tell me, but that’s when I hit her and she was falling and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

  The branches of the evergreens shuddered in the wind, long, skeletal shadows skating across the dim streetlight. In my peripheral vision, I saw Anthony moving closer to me.

  I took the last step and reached for Tyler’s hand, gently tugging him down from the cement wall. A flicker of awareness washed over me, the power I had in that instant. But I knew that the price of my justice would never be enough. Or it would be too much, depending on how you looked at it.

  He came easily, like a broken puppy, his shoulders slumped, his face a mess of snot and tears. He slid onto the damp walkway, his back against the cement wall, and I sat next to him.

  Icy rain needled my scalp, plastering my hair to my head. The damp cold crept into my jeans, spreading up through my torso, cracking my ribs open wide and exposing my heart.

  Samson stood within earshot, her hand on her gun holster. And a few steps closer to me, Anthony also was a witness to everything Tyler said now.

  “Why did you send her those pictures?” I asked.

  “My friend Dan, he saw her kissing some guy in Laurelwood.” Tyler’s mouth twisted. “I couldn’t believe it. I mean, my mom cheated on my dad, and then my girlfriend cheated on me? It’s like a fucking movie. I thought if I sent her those messages, she’d be scared and maybe she’d, you know, come running back to me? Like, tell me she was getting them. And maybe she’d . . . I don’t know . . . stay with me.”

  Awareness bloomed inside of me, a blaze of light shining on what should have been so obvious all along. He’d been afraid of losing her, so he’d tried to hold her tight, but in doing so he’d pushed her away.

  The distant wail of police cars suddenly rushed forward. Four of them surrounded the bridge, two blocking off each end. The intermittent whirl of red and blue flashing turned the bridge to a scene of chaos.

  “I’m sorry,” Tyler sobbed pathetically. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  I took his hand, my body shivering with cold. “I know.”

  He tilted his face to mine, his eyes hollow, rain pinging off his face.

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened that night, Tyler?”

  41

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  october

  When I got home the house was completely quiet, the living room lamp producing a warm orange glow. A mostly empty bottle of red wine stood alone on the kitchen counter. I dumped the rest into the sink and threw the bottle in the recycling bin.

  I’d bet my college tuition that Mom was asleep, and once she was asleep she was out for the night. So much for talking to her tonight. I hadn’t even needed to rush home to make curfew.

  I tiptoed up the stairs and peeked inside her room. Mom was completely conked out, her head slouched to the side and half buried under a pillow. I crossed the room and moved the pillow so I could kiss her on the forehead.

  I thought about crawling into her bed and curling up next to her, the way I used to. When I was little, I did it almost every night, cuddling up to her while she snored softly. Especially if it was stormy or really cold. I think we both liked the feeling of having the other there.

  “Love you,” I whispered as I switched off the lamp.

  Back in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed. There was no way I’d be able to sleep with all this nervous energy in me. I grabbed my phone and texted Tyler. You’re right. We
need to talk. You still at bbq? Meet in 15?

  A few seconds later my phone buzzed.

  Tyler: Yep. See you in a few.

  I wondered what Kendall was doing. It seemed like there would be a lot of questions from people who knew me if she was at the barbecue with him. I just didn’t care anymore.

  The battery icon on my phone flashed again. I reached for the cord at the side of my bed and plugged it in, leaving it on my bedside table. Might as well leave it here if it was going to die anyway.

  I slid my coat back on and crept downstairs, shutting the door quietly behind me.

  × × ×

  The night air was chilly, a brisk breeze blowing. I pulled the collar of my leather jacket up to warm my neck and ducked into the copse of woods along the back of my house.

  Despite the day’s reprieve from rain, the ground was still slick and wet, rising unsteadily beneath my feet. I was only a few months pregnant, but my balance was totally off. I’d read online it was because all these wild hormones made my ligaments loose. It was crazy how this tiny little bean could take over everything about me.

  I placed my hand on my stomach and stroked it gently. There was a baby inside of me. Now that the shock had worn off, I felt . . . in awe of that fact. A baby I already loved and would do anything for.

  A streetlight flickered over the ZigZag Bridge as I crossed it, reflecting against the metal suspension. My shoes echoed against the wooden pedestrian walkway as I moved across the bridge. Nearly on the other side, I stopped and peered over the cement barrier at the roaring river below.

  My earlier inertia had subsided, burning away my fatigue and filling me with an uneasy anticipation. I had a plan now. First, I’d find Tyler at the barbecue and apologize for not being honest with him. I should’ve told him the truth from the beginning. I thought I was trying to save him from getting hurt, but if I was totally honest, I’d really wanted to save myself.

  And after I spoke to Tyler, I’d find Derek. I’d been unfair to him too, dropping the p-bomb and running away. Not cool at all.

  Of course it was a shock. What did I expect? It wasn’t like he was going to dance for joy at being a nineteen-year-old daddy. But he’d come around. And if he didn’t . . . well, at least now I knew it was better to have an absent father than a bad one.

  “Hey.” A touch on my shoulder made me jump.

  “Tyler!” I gasped. “God, you scared me!”

  “Sorry.” He stepped back and shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Thought I’d meet you out here.”

  I peered over his shoulder. In the distance, I could see his Jeep parked next to Derek’s Mustang in front of the Stokeses’ house. The irony didn’t escape me.

  “Where’s Kendall?” I asked. “Is she at the barbecue?”

  “Naww, she passed out in my car.” He rolled his eyes. “She won’t even remember tonight. I’ll take her home later. Fucking lightweight. She has serious daddy issues.”

  “So . . .” I bit my lip and looked at the ground. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For the way things have been. You’re right, I haven’t been entirely honest with you, and you don’t deserve that.”

  I looked up and caught his eye. His face looked very pale under the glow of the streetlight. The faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose stood out sharply.

  “Dan told me,” he said, his voice low and hard. “He saw you in Laurelwood kissing some guy. But you wouldn’t admit it. I followed you, but you were so sneaky. I never saw you go anywhere but over to Madison’s. I knew Dan was telling the truth—I was just waiting to catch you.”

  All those times I’d felt eyes burning into my back, I’d felt the hair rise on my arms—it was because I was being watched. Tyler hadn’t realized I was going to the Stokeses’ house to see Derek, not Madison.

  “You followed me?” I whispered, my voice hoarse. A dark, inexplicable unease feathered inside me.

  He didn’t answer. I felt a thought crouching somewhere in the back of my mind. It leapt, and I caught up with the thread of possibility circling my brain.

  “Tyler.” My stomach twisted painfully. “Have you been sending me those scary picture messages?”

  His nostrils flared and he cracked some tension out of his fingers, but he didn’t answer. I backed away from him until my butt hit the bridge’s low cement wall.

  I pressed my fingers into my eyes until all I could see were white stars bursting in front of me. How could he do something so cruel?

  “Tyler . . . why?”

  “You were cheating on me all fucking summer!” he spat bitterly.

  “Jesus.” My legs were unreliable, like new grass. I suddenly felt weak all over. “You’re such a creeper.”

  He glared at me from under a brow thickened with anger, his mouth a narrow slit of fury.

  “I’m a creeper? You’re a fucking slut, Olivia!” His lip curled into a sneer of disgust. “You lied to me the way my mom lied to my dad. You made me look like a fool!”

  “I said I’m sorr—”

  “Just stop! I don’t want your fake apologies!”

  Rage radiated out from him in waves. Adrenaline kicked hot and silent in my blood, and I leaned away, wanting to escape the vortex of his fury.

  “Who is he?” he demanded, moving closer to me. “Who’d you cheat on me with?”

  “Look, I . . .” I hesitated, glanced over my shoulder at the river crashing wildly. The wind whistled through the trees, and I shivered.

  “What?” He bristled, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “What were you gonna say? You ‘looove’ him?” He spat out the word as if it had vile connotations.

  I held his gaze. Madison was wrong. I wasn’t vanilla, and I wouldn’t be a doormat anymore. I could stand up for myself and the guy I loved. I lifted my chin and glared at Tyler.

  “Yes, I do love him,” I said. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, and I know I should’ve told you sooner. I’ve made a mess out of this, and I am sorry, but this is it for us. I need you to accept that and stop acting crazy.”

  His mouth flapped open and fury rolled over his face like a tide; his eyes narrowed and glittered in the streetlight.

  Like a snake he struck, caught both my wrists in his hands and squeezed, clasping me with fists of iron. I struggled, trying to wrench myself free, but he was stronger, his face twisted into an ugly mask.

  “You stupid fucking bitch,” he hissed, spittle gathering in the corners of his mouth.

  A cold edge of nausea slid from my belly into my throat and fear pinged metallic against my tongue. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely afraid of Tyler.

  “Tyler, stop!”

  I struggled against his viselike grip, twisting my hands left, then right. His fingers were like steel. I could feel the soft skin of my wrists bruising, smashed between my sharp bones and his hands. My mouth went dry and I forgot how to speak, how to scream. With one final heave I twisted my arms from him, and his hands snapped off mine with a sickening jerk.

  “Stop! You’re hurting me!”

  “I’m hurting you?!” he shrieked. His eyes were black flecks of coal burning in his face. “I’m hurting you?!”

  “You’re a fucking psycho!” I spat. “Fine! You want the truth? I’m—” My admission was cut off by a streak of blazing hot pain as something exploded against the side of my head. My brain barely registered the blow, my vision a dusky blur of red, pain searing into my skull and down my jaw. I felt my body spin with the force of it.

  I reeled backward until my legs whacked against the low cement wall and I tumbled over, my body hurtling sideways across the ledge. A dark fog pressed against my outer vision, and before I knew it I was falling, plunging into empty space.

  I hit the water on my back, my eyes fastened on the bridge’s lacy arches illuminated by a flickering streetlamp.

  Then the shadowy water tipped me under.

  I kicked, clawed for the surface, but was tangled beneath the immense weight of the water. I didn’t know whic
h way was up, nor could I get my body to move to reach it. I tried to scream, but swallowed gulps of muddy river water instead. It burned as it slid down my throat.

  Water shifted around me, twisting me this way and that. I kicked hard, my lungs desperate for air. My chest felt like it was being crushed between fiery jaws.

  Suddenly the water thrust my body up and my head cracked against something hard. Pain seethed through my head, worse even than before. White light blazed behind my eyelids and a ringing crashed in my ears, like a giant elephant thundering down the stairs.

  My baby, I thought, and it gave me the strength to give one last massive kick.

  Fresh air burst into my lungs as I broke the surface, searing like fire across my chest. I sucked in another breath, and another, coughing and hacking as river water spewed out of me. And that air revitalized me just the ounce I needed.

  I kicked again and moved one arm, just one, and threw it up and over my head. My fingers sank into pebbles lining the river’s edge. I did it again, pulling my body up with every last bit of strength I had until only my lower half was submerged. My face pressed into the uneven gravel, hard and sharp.

  I tried to lift my head, to call for help, but couldn’t. A thick rushing sound pulsed in my skull, but I couldn’t tell if it was the sound of the river or came from inside my head.

  I spoke silently to my baby, the words my mom used to say to me when I was scared.

  Whenever, whatever. I’m here forever.

  I tried to stay awake, but my mind was trapped beneath the weight of my skull, diving into a thick, lethargic spin toward the dark mists of sleep.

  It didn’t hurt anymore. I was too tired to feel any pain. My eyelashes were so heavy, like sandbags were pressed against them. I wondered fleetingly if this was what it felt like when my mom slept so deeply, like the dead.

  And I knew that, soon, I’d find out for sure.

  42

  * * *

  ABI

  february, 3 months later

  I hurried from the edge of the hospital parking lot, cutting across the carpet of lawn that decorated the square in front of the hospital. Along the beach road between the hospital and Puget Sound, gigantic trees shivered in the bitter winter wind, their bare limbs clattering against each other.