Despite the heavy rain and the mist on the mountain, I could see the glowing lights of some city far below over the side of the cliff. The view only served to terrify me more. It must have been a thousand meters down to that place, and I wanted no part in taking the express route to reach it.

Ranjit coaxed the Jeep to a speed I didn’t think it had, and we roared forward, gaining on the blue Ambassador. A sharp turn was next, and two cars blocked Bikas and Willy’s path. Ranjit flashed his lights into the back of the car before us, surely distracting—if not blinding—Bikas. He, in turn, tried to overtake the first of the cars holding him back, but a truck roared into view and he had to yield.

Then, as the road straightened for a stretch before jackknifing left again about fifty meters ahead, he zoomed right of the car, attempting to overtake it on the rocky shoulder. A truck bore down on him from the opposite direction. The sharp turn approached quickly. Too quickly. Bikas couldn’t find the speed to pass the car. He veered farther right to avoid the truck just before plowing through the dented guardrail and over the cliff.

Ranjit braked, and we skidded on our bald tires, heading straight for the breach in the guardrail. The world stopped turning. Everything slowed to a surreal pace. We swerved toward the edge, somehow missing the truck. I braced myself against the seats before me, and I saw Birgit do the same against the dashboard.

The punctured guardrail drew closer. I thought of my parents. My brother and sister. And I thought of Sushmita. My last thought, I was sure, just before Ranjit jerked the wheel to the right, deliberately causing the Jeep to flip onto its left side. The metal scraped across the blacktop, sending sparks into the air. I fell against the wall and the window and saw Birgit bounce violently off the canvas flap, which was the only thing between her and the road. The Jeep slid sideways and suddenly stopped with a metallic groan.

Cars screeched to a halt behind us and sounded their horns. I felt blood dripping down my forehead into my eyes, but I could still see Birgit slumped unconscious in her seat, hanging halfway out the door.

Into the void.

We’d come to a stop halfway over the edge.

There was movement. Birgit. Slowly, like a snail, she was sliding through the door.

I grabbed her arm with my good right hand and held her fast. But I could do no more. I was paralyzed. I peered through the canvas door, which was flapping in the wind, and my stomach did a somersault. Not ten inches from my resting place against the wall of the Jeep, 1,000 meters of nothing opened up before me. I closed my eyes.