I thought the same thing, Branson said. But people get very creative with this stuff. There have been a few folks that have skipped these gates altogether, forgoing the edge. Some have climbed up the suspension towers. He pointed up over their heads and said, Thats a three-hundred-and-fifty-foot drop from up there.

Jack stared out from beside her, looking through the rails. You see that? he asked, pointing to the outer wall of the bridges edging. Right there, on that little lip facing us. Those are scuff marks, arent they?

Shed noticed them too, but thought they were likely nothing more than wear and tear on the old bridge. But the more she looked at them, the more she agreed; they looked like scuff marks from shoes scrambling for purchase as someone tried to crawl up on that outer edgethe final piece of the bridge before free fall and open air. She counted at least four in all, and another two marks that may or may not have been sneaker scuff marks.

I cant tell if any of them are fresh, she said.

Rachel then found herself reaching up and feeling along the top of the suicide gate. She looked down to the Brooklyn streets below, imagining a man falling from this height. In doing so, she imagined herself falling, the air rushing past her as she anticipated a violent yet brief smashing sensation as she connected with the pavement.

For a moment, she closed her eyes at the thought and realized there was an odd sort of peace to it. The idea of jumping, the idea of release and falling, then the waiting darkness and…nothing. No more hiding her diagnosis, no more wrestling with the reality of cancer ending her life. She could fall blissfully and experience pain for a split second and be done with it all.

She opened her eyes, terrified at how alluring the idea of it was. Slowly, she released her hands from the gate and took a few steps away. What do we know about the jumper? she asked. Did he live here?

In Brooklyn, yes. Not really near the bridge, though. Still…if youre suicidal and living in Brooklyn, I guess this bridge is going to come to mind.

Rachel looked back down to the street, thinking of the sort of determination it would take to climb the gate and get out there.

The fall, the release, the end…

She closed her eyes again, this time trying to usher the idea away. I think Id like to talk to his family, she said. The report said he was married, right?

Yes. And the wife honestly didnt seem like it was much of a surprise that hed do this. Hed been having a rough time lately.