Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Robbie hung up, fumbled his phone back into the bag with quaking hands, slung the strap across his chest, and ran for the exit, his parents hot on his heels.
Chapter Thirty-Three
A faint glow of sunlight was just beginning to show itself on the horizon when Skylar reached Long Island. Even in the wee hours of the morning, the traffic going through the Bronx was backed up, due to the abundance of delivery trucks ferrying goods to Manhattan and the outer boroughs. Bridge traffic flew, however, the majority of cars heading in the opposite direction as she was welcomed by the nicer roadways and greenery of the island.
She didn’t have a plan. She only had a goal.
There was a good chance this idea made her psychotic. Point the finger at the asylum where she was raised. Courage had always been rewarded. Accomplishments. And while the Page family had made some serious strides recently in expressing their feelings to one another in a normal, healthy, non-life-threatening way, retrieving the kite from the tree was the biggest expression of love she could come up with. It was a tangible thing that she could understand, and Robbie would hopefully recognize, so she was trusting her gut and going for it.
Skylar would include words, too. Words were important. Maybe they would be enough on their own, but she couldn’t hand him the heart out of her chest, so this was the next best thing. It was real, proactive. Like Robbie moving into a new place. Or showing up with Boston University sweatshirts. Or taking her first pitch.
And at the very root of this possibly risky adventure was this: she loved him and wanted him to have the fucking kite. It was important to him.
Therefore, it was important to her, too.
Skylar had listened to the voicemails. Five times each. She didn’t like the panic in his voice, but apparently this need to prove how much he meant to her was making Skylar more stubborn than usual, because she kept driving, checking the rearview mirror every few minutes, searching for a car that might belong to Robbie’s parents.
She reached Sands Point Preserve at 5:15 a.m. It didn’t open until nine.
Too bad.
She parked on the side of the road and walked along the metal fencing until she was out of view of the security camera, then she used the trunk of a tree to hop over into the Preserve, offhandedly wondering who she would call with her one jailhouse phone call. Ironically, it would be Robbie. But she wouldn’t mind swallowing her pride if she had the yellow kite. Something to make him believe in her again. Trust her with his heart.
At this time of the morning, the air had a distinct chill, making her grateful for the Bearcats sweatshirt. Wind whipped the tree branches overhead and untucked hairs from her ponytail as she found a hiking path and took it west, using her iPhone flashlight to illuminate the way, until she reached a wooden sign that pointed her in the direction of the cliff overlook. She broke into a jog; the closer she came to the cliff, the heavier the wind, and the more her stomach muscles started to tighten.
It took her fifteen minutes to reach the cliff.
And less than ten seconds to lose her courage.
In her mind’s eye, the cliff and the beach below had rendered itself almost like a drawing. The reality was so much more intimidating. The sun was halfway risen over the Atlantic now, as if wanting to illuminate exactly how foolish she’d been to believe she could attempt this retrieval. The cliff was high. Very high. It took her a good five minutes to pinpoint where the kite was stuck and when she saw it, a hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat, carried off by the wind.
Nope. Not a chance. She’d either need a crane . . . or she’d have to shimmy her way out along a single medium-sized branch that didn’t look like it could hold her weight, simply hoping it wouldn’t snap and send her crashing to the rocks below. The kite was too far out to grasp with any kind of instrument from her position on the cliff, even if she had something that would do the trick, which she didn’t. It had quite possibly picked the most unreachable spot in this preserve to make its final resting place.
Skylar sat heavily on the ground, gathering her knees to her chest, and watched the rest of the sun creep into the sky, though the gray clouds kept the breeze heavy, the water choppy. She took out her phone, intending to call Robbie to let him know she’d aborted the mission and he could stop worrying. There was no reception and the call didn’t go through, however, so she stood and started walking back the direction she came—