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Back The Falling Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. CONTENTS
  2. ALSO BY ANNA TODD
  3. DEDICATION
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. CHAPTER ONE
  6. CHAPTER TWO
  7. CHAPTER THREE
  8. CHAPTER FOUR
  9. CHAPTER FIVE
  10. CHAPTER SIX
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT
  13. CHAPTER NINE
  14. CHAPTER TEN
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  22. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  23. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  44. CHAPTER FORTY
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
  54. CHAPTER FIFTY
  55. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
  60. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
  61. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
  62. CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
  63. CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
  64. CHAPTER SIXTY
  65. CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
  66. CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
  67. CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
  68. CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
  69. A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
  70. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  71. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  72. COPYRIGHT
  73. ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

“Anyway, I’ll have to drive around trying to find you if you haven’t made it back yet. It’s messy, Kael, and probably easier if you just get in. I’m sure my dad’s called me at least five—”

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands in mock defeat. I nodded, smiling in my victory, and you know what? He almost smiled back.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

No matter where we were stationed, my dad always chose to live within the gates of the post, in the housing that was offered. From both of the Carolinas, down to Georgia, to Texas. I didn’t mind it so much when I was young, because the small handful of friends I had lived very close by, but as we moved, then moved again, and again, it got old fast. I started to hate the groomed cul-de-sacs, all the American flags and impeccable yards, and the lines of cars at each gate every single time we left the post. The older Austin and I got, the more we hated it. But our dad loved his Army life: the commissary and the PX convenience store, both tax-free, and the company where he worked every day just down the street. He felt empowered in this domain, but as Austin and I grew up, we started to feel trapped.

Austin and my caged feeling was nothing compared to our mother’s. When we were younger, she was alive and bright with the excitement of a new place, a new environment every time we moved. But as the weeks went by she would begin to pace around the new house, picking at little things, rearranging the dolls in her open glass cabinet, to introduce her own bit of chaos to the pristine quarters my dad expected her to maintain. She was always up, up, up or down, down, down. There was never an in-between.

There were these hours of madness that seamlessly morphed into days of lunacy. They began in small stretches of mornings when the curtains were never opened, lunches weren’t packed, and my dad yelled about the empty coffeepot or the laundry left in the dryer for days. My mom would start to smoke again on the porch, staring at the replicated identical houses on the street. When it got really bad the couch turned into her bed and Austin and I knew better than to comment on our parents’ sleeping in separate parts of the house. We also sort of enjoyed the peace that came with their distance.