Page 39 of The Edge Of Us

I crossed the room and sat across from her.

"You sketch too?" I asked gently.

She glanced up. Her eyes were sharp. Exhausted. Suspicious.

"Not really," she said. "Just helps me focus."

"I get that."

A beat.

"I'm Corinne."

"I know who you are," she said flatly. "Instagram. Vogue. The ledge."

It hit like a slap-but she didn't say it cruelly. Just... honestly.

"Yeah," I said, "that was me."

She stared at me a second longer. Then her voice softened.

"You climbed back in."

I nodded.

"I don't know if I could," she added, quieter.

"You don't have to yet," I said. "You just have to stay."

A long pause. Then-

"I'm Brittany."

I smiled. "I know who you are too."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."

But her lips twitched-just a little. And for the first time since she arrived, I saw a flicker of something that hadn't been there before.

Hope.

Chapter 24

Corine

The walls around me feel like they’re closing in, the air heavy, thick. My thoughts, jumbled and sharp, collide into each other with no sense of order. I can feel the tremor in my hands, my fingers twitching as I sit in the sterile chair in my room. I can’t stop it—can't stop my mind from spiraling down the rabbit hole, deeper and deeper, suffocating me with memories I can’t escape.

I can’t— I can’t stop this. It's always the same. I try so damn hard, but the darkness comes for me, consumes me piece by piece.

"Corinne," I whisper to myself, but it doesn't help. It never helps.

My hands press against my temples, trying to shut the thoughts away, but they persist like a drumbeat in my skull. Allen... that name. That one word. Just one thought, and it's like the floodgates open, dragging me under.

I clench my jaw and suck in a breath. It's happening again. My chest tightens, and I can feel my heart racing. Breathe, breathe, just breathe, I tell myself. But the air is too thick to inhale properly. My body trembles as I stand up and pace, feeling the jagged edges of memories slice through me, stabbing me with every step. Why couldn’t I have been enough? Why wasn’t I enough?

The tears come—rushing, fast. I clutch my head in my hands, like if I hold it tight enough, I’ll stop my mind from exploding. The pain in my chest is unbearable, a crushing weight that never lifts.

“No. No, no, no!” I scream, but my voice cracks, the sound breaking into a sob. “Why did you do this to me? WHY DID YOU DO THIS?” I scream to the empty walls.

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