“You don’t have to do this. We ended it,” I croaked, not wanting to face him but fearing I’d fall if I turned and looked down the slope. My throat was tight with tears. I couldn’t imagine how this might possibly end any other way than with me plunging to the ground and breaking my head open on the bright white cement. I would never see my mom or dad again. None of my hopes of getting older with Trey after all of this was over would ever come true. And poor Henry—Henry, who only ever wanted to make things right in his sister’s honor—was inside, possibly already dead. My life would end today. Here. “This is what they predicted would happen. You’re making it come true. You might make it start all over again if you do this!”

Mr. Simmons frowned at me, and I could see traces of Trey in his features. “I’m willing to take that chance and find out. You should have known how far I’d go to protect my family. But it’s your own fault that now you have to—”

He lurched forward, chest first, as if he’d been struck by a powerful wind from behind. The railing only came up as high as his midshins, so he fell over it, arms flailing… headed directly for me.

I only caught a glimpse of Trey standing on the widow’s walk—his eyes locked on mine, blazing with fear and regret. I could see the fury drifting off of him like steam rising off a lake on a cold morning. But before I could fully appreciate that Trey had followed us up to the roof and pushed Mr. Simmons from behind, Mr. Simmons’s shoulder knocked into mine and we both tumbled chaotically.

I fell backward, knowing the instant my foot budged that I was doomed. I fell onto my back and slid, feeling the pull of gravity drawing me toward death at what seemed like hyperspeed. Mr. Simmons grabbed at the sleeve of my dress as we fell in unison, but the fabric slipped from his loose hold. He somersaulted down the peak in a way that made it look like his body had folded over at the neck, and we reached the edge of the roof at the same instant. He disappeared over it as if rolling like a log on his side, his head mere inches from mine.

But my hands found the edge of the roof and—not even fully aware of what I was doing—I clamped on to it. A split second later, I felt my arms snap at the sockets, the full weight of my body coming to an abrupt, shocking halt. A nightmarish boom sounded from far below me a few seconds later, and I didn’t dare look, fearing that even a turn of my head would require more energy than I could spare. I already knew that was the sound of Mr. Simmons hitting the hood of the Range Rover.

“Hold on!” Trey shouted hysterically from the widow’s walk. He was pacing and shaking his hands, and finally set his palms on the railing as if he intended to climb over it to descend the peak and save me.