Chapter 4The Son I Could Never Save

But he couldn’t hear me.

He shouted something I couldn’t make out, then suddenly leaned forward and vaulted over the railing.

I saw his tall, sunny figure plummet like a kite with its string cut, crashing to the ground below.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. A metallic taste rose in my throat, and I coughed up blood.

Staring at the distant ground where my son lay, I was thrown back to the memory of my previous death—stabbed ten times by enraged strangers. My fingers gripped the railing as I followed Gabe’s path, leaping off without hesitation.

The impact shattered my bones, and I felt my insides heave up through my throat in a wave of iron-sweet pain.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing by the window of my house. Down below, I could hear the hum of an engine as Lauren’s car prepared to leave.

I clenched my fists as if bracing myself for an irreversible decision.

I drove straight to Ashwood High School, reaching Gabe’s dormitory without delay. This time, I demanded that Mrs. Spencer bring him down.

When Gabe appeared, I didn’t exchange pleasantries. I grabbed his hand and said, “You’re coming home with me.”

He stared at me, shocked. “Mom, the SATs are tomorrow. Are you feeling alright? Do you have a fever?” He reached out to touch my forehead.

I caught his hand. “Gabe, I’ve let you make your own decisions for years, but you’re going to listen to me this time.”

Mrs. Spencer looked baffled and stepped forward. “Ma’am, you’ve got to be kidding. You’re pulling him out the night before the SATs?”

I brushed past her. “I’m his parent. I have the right to take him.”

Her jaw dropped. “With a mom like you, no wonder the kid’s doomed.”

Gabe frowned but followed me home, clearly confused. “Mom, what’s going on? You’re acting like a completely different person.”

“In my eyes, you’ve always been calm, graceful, and composed. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

For years, I had solved every problem independently, never raising my voice or losing control. Now, I didn’t know how to explain to him that his life was at stake.

Tears streamed down my face as I asked, “Tell me the truth. Have I ever pushed you too hard? Are you unhappy?”

He hesitated, thinking. “Well, of course, there were times it was hard, but when I saw my grades improve, I felt good about it.”

I hugged him tightly. “But Gabe, I’ve realized none of that matters. All I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”

His confusion deepened. “Mom, I am happy.”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Gabe, is there something you’re hiding from me? Please, just tell me!”

Startled by my outburst, he shook his head. “Mom, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

He brought me a glass of milk. “I’ll stay home tonight to calm you down, but tomorrow, I’m still taking the SATs.”

I forced a smile and nodded.

That night, I sat outside his bedroom, watching him sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw him crying on that rooftop, jumping to his death.

The SATs were the culmination of years of hard work. But what were their grades compared to his life?

I grabbed his exam folder in the living room and tore his admission ticket.

As long as tomorrow passed, Gabe would survive.

I leaned against his bedroom door and closed my eyes.

I was startled awake by the sound of shattering glass. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the window, and rain poured down in torrents.

Gabe was standing on the windowsill, his figure silhouetted against the storm. He turned to look at me, his eyes filled with despair, tears streaming down his face.

He forced a smile in the rain, then fell backward into the darkness.

I lunged forward, screaming, “No!”

But all I heard was the sickening thud of his body hitting the ground.

I collapsed, sobbing, “Why? I brought you home. Why couldn’t I save you?”

Despite everything I’d done—even giving up his SATs—he still chose this path.