wooden railing. My stomach sinks like a twenty-pound stone in water. I slow down just in time to stop myself from following her over the ledge. I stand in the spot where I’d seen the flutter of pink fabric before she disappeared. One shoe and her small gold handbag are scattered on the ground close to where she had been standing. I close my eyes, count to three, and prepare myself for whatever I might find.
It happened so fast. I know that it’s a long drop from there to the shallow pool of water that’s been formed by erosion.
Trepidation and horror make my heartbeat slow down even while it thuds hard against the cavity of my chest. I hold my breath and look down.
Relief floods me, fast and wild, and it makes me dizzy. Her fall was broken by a ledge jutting out of the side of the stone face of the cliff. This cliff has dozens of them. It’s an elite rock climber haven, and every fall, just when the weather starts to clear and cool, they descend to risk their lives climbing cliffs like this all over Tuscany.
The sound of the sea roaring is gone, and I realize that it hadn’t been the sea I’d been hearing. It was the rush of my own blood as I imagined the worst. It’s actually very quiet here. The water laps gently on the rocky shore, the waves break in the distance. Behind me, the strains of music from the tent create a strange dichotomy. They have no idea what’s happening out here. And, I’d like to keep it that way as long as I can.
I pull my phone out of my breast pocket before lying on my stomach. I slide forward until my head dangles off the ledge, and I can see her clearly. She’s a little less than ten feet down. Not too far, but not close enough that I could reach her by extending my arms.
She’s moved since I first spotted her. She’d been lying on her back, legs splayed. Now, she’s curled up in a fetal position. That she’s been able to move herself is a very good sign.
“Confidence,” I call down. She doesn’t speak, but whimpers loudly and nods.
I assess the ledge. The thick coating of moss covering it is a blessing and a curse. It saved her from landing on hard concrete, but it’s also slick and will make moving around on it treacherous. The piece of rock she landed on looks to be about ten feet long and eight feet wide. It’s not small, but there are only about five feet between her and its ledge.
If she rolls over a full body turn, she’ll fall off. I glance up at the sky. It’s dark, but the moon is very bright. The cloudless sky is good news. But even that comes with the caveat of the unexpected showers that are very commonplace in Tuscany during the summer.
I need to get help in a hurry.
I dial the preprogrammed number for the villa’s security and explain to Marco, as succinctly as I can, what happened. Just as I hang up, she moves her foot, and a loud, gut-wrenching moan floats up to me on the wind. I drop my phone next to me and clear my throat before I speak.
“Confidence, can you hear me?” I shout down.
She nods, and puts a hand on her head and starts to roll her shoulders.
“Don’t move, please!” I shout. She freezes immediately.
“The ledge is five feet from your left. Don’t go in that direction. Can you roll backward until you touch the cliff wall?” I ask. “In fact, if you could just not move at all, it would be best. Does anything hurt?” I ask her.
“Oh my God!” she shouts tearfully. “Everything hurts. So much.” She cries, but she does what I ask. When she reaches the cliff wall, she scrambles up to sitting and looks up and over her shoulder at me.
I can only see the shadow of her profile in the inky moonlit dark. “I’m really scared,” she says softly, and the vulnerability in her voice twists my gut.
“I know,” I breathe and then realize I whispered it. “Help will be here soon, okay?” I say in a louder voice.
“You’re rich, right?” she calls up to me.
“What?” I call back in surprise.
“You said so,” she presses impatiently. “It had better be true. Sending a dead body overseas is expensive. My mother doesn’t have the money.” She’s talking quickly, but