Paradise Falls (Paradise Falls #1-5)(19)

“You come here often?”

“Not as much as I should. It’s always either too loud or too quiet.”

She hated the design because it looked like teeth. Jacob examined each obelisk until he stopped and rested his hand on one. Jennifer trailed behind him with her arms folded over her chest. She didn’t know what to say, and suspected he didn’t either.

“I… I looked them up,” Jennifer said. “I hope that doesn’t upset you. I was curious.”

He nodded. “I knew your husband was on the list. We’re even.”

Her ring itched. Both their losses were listed on the same bronze plaque.

“I hate this place,” she said.

His gaze fell to the river. “I feel like I should do something, or say something, but I don’t know what. Do I bring flowers?”

“I don’t know. People do.”

Some of them were even planted along the wall, or sat in pots beside the park benches that looked out over the river.

“I don’t understand why they think people would want to sit here and look at the river,” said Jennifer. “For a long time I couldn’t stand to be near it at all.”

“I know what you mean,” he said, softly. “I can still see it. It was right here. We’re standing in the middle of the old road.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

“Of course. The chaplains always told me it was wrong to blame myself.”

“It wasn’t. No one could have-”

“It is my fault.”

“Jacob-“

“Do you know what chaos theory is?”

“I’ve heard of it,” said Jennifer.

The river foamed as it coursed over the smoothed stones. It wasn’t a raging torrent, but it carved a deep channel in the earth. Once the water had been deep enough for a ferry and above the falls there were mills that ran on the current.

“A tiny change to a complex system has huge consequences,” said Jacob. “The night of the collapse, my parents took my sister shopping in Philadelphia, for Christmas,” he said.

He spoke so softly she almost had to strain to hear him.

“It was our family tradition. Every year we went to Philly for a day, but not really Philly. Mostly the mall at King of Prussia. Mom and Dad would argue about going to Delaware. Dad always said we weren’t saving any money on the sales tax, because of the gas.”

“You didn’t go?”

“Not that time. I was seventeen. I got it in my head that going with them would be stupid. I don’t know if I even had a reason. We argued.” His voice grew tight. “My sister begged me to come. I stayed home and played video games instead.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Jennifer.

“She tried to call me, as the bridge was collapsing. I had my headphones on.”

He leaned on the wall.

“I’m so sorry,” Jennifer said, and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have stopped here. I wasn’t paying attention-“

“It’s my fault. If I went with them… fifteen minutes, either way. If I’d slowed them down or sped them up, kept us at dinner longer, chosen a different place to eat, they’d be here now. They were almost home.”

“I used to think it would be better,” she said, surprised at the hollowness of her own voice. “If I’d been with him. I used to lie awake at night, wondering why God was punishing me.”

Used to.

“She’d be going on seventeen, now,” Jacob said. “My sister. She’d be practicing for the SATs, deciding where to go to school. She wanted to be a dentist.” He wasn’t looking at her. “It twists me up inside, when I’m at work. I didn’t think it would bother me, but I look out at that classroom and I see an empty chair and wonder if it would have been hers.”

“I ran down the street barefoot when I heard Mrs. Carmody, my neighbor, screaming,” Jennifer said. “It was freezing cold and my feet were bleeding. I ran the whole way. You know Brock Edwards? The school resource officer?”

Jacob nodded. “We’ve met.”

“He stopped me from throwing myself into the ravine. Caught me in his arms and carried me away. I ended up in one of the ambulances, shivering and screaming and wrapped up in a blanket while some EMT from county patched up my feet. I don’t even remember how I got home.”

“I was there,” he said. “I wanted to climb down, but they wouldn’t let me. It wouldn’t have mattered. My sister didn’t suffer.”

The way he said it implied his mother and father weren’t so lucky.

“The car landed upside down,” he continued. “Candy was killed instantly. My mother probably didn’t last more than a minute. My father, though…” He trailed off, and looked back out over the river. “I did some research. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was probably awake and aware for at least ten minutes.”

She grabbed his arm. “They would all be glad you lived.”

“Would they?” he said, sharply. “She was my little sister. I was supposed to protect her.”

“Jacob--“

He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He turned from the wall, slipping his arm out of her grasp.