Chapter 97: The Bridge
Elijah climbed the old railway embankment with mud on his shoes, sweat sticking to his back even though the night air was cold enough to bite. He hadn’t been up here in ten years—not since the night everything went wrong, not since the last client he ever defended in Briar Ridge fell from this very bridge and died in the river below. They had called it suicide. Elijah had never believed it.
And now Eden was somewhere on this rotting skeleton of wood and rusted metal.
He reached the last stretch of track and stepped onto the planks. Night wind howled between the gaps. The river below churned black and angry, reflecting nothing but darkness. Elijah cupped his hands around his mouth.
“EDEN!”
His voice cracked, echoing into the trees.
He waited. For a terrible moment, his worst fear tightened around his chest like a fist.
Then—a small voice answered.
“Dad?”
Elijah spun toward the left span of the bridge.
Eden sat on the edge of a beam, legs dangling over the drop, clutching her sketchbook to her chest. Her cheeks were streaked with dried tears. Her shoulders shook in the wind.
Relief hit Elijah so hard he almost stumbled.
He approached slowly, careful not to make sudden movements on the unstable wood.
“Eden… sweetheart… what are you doing up here?”
She didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared down at the river with a hollow expression far too old for her young face.
“This place never lets people leave,” she whispered. “You know that, right?”
Elijah’s heart twisted.
He moved closer—just a few feet from her now—feeling the bridge tremble beneath their weight.
“I should never have left you alone,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not angry.”
“I’m not angry,” he said instantly.
“You punched a mirror two days ago.”
“That wasn’t about you.”
She turned her head slightly, but still didn’t meet his eyes. “Everything in this town is about you. Everyone keeps saying it.”
He felt the words slice through him.
“Who told you that?”
She didn’t answer.
Elijah sat down carefully on the beam beside her, leaving enough space so she didn’t feel cornered. The river roared beneath them, pulling cold mist into the air.
After a long silence, Eden finally handed him her sketchbook.
He opened it.
Page after page was covered in jagged lines—drawings of the church basement, the red truck, the eyeless faces, the shadowy figures with long arms and sharp shoulders. Scenes she shouldn’t have been able to recall. Scenes she shouldn't have witnessed.
“El Eden…” His throat tightened. “How long have you been having these nightmares again?”
“Since the fire alarm night,” she whispered. “Since someone wrote on the mirror.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“You don’t listen when you’re hunting the truth,” she snapped. “You disappear into it. You get swallowed by it.”
That hit him harder than the note she’d left.
“I’m trying to protect us,” he said softly.
“By fighting every powerful person in this town alone?” Her voice trembled. “Dad, they took Matthew. They took that funeral guy. And now they’ll take me. Or you. Or both of us.”
“They won’t,” he said firmly.
“You can’t promise that,” she whispered. “Because you can’t even protect yourself.”
Elijah closed the sketchbook gently. “You’re right. I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. But running won’t save you from these people.”
She inhaled sharply. “Someone texted you. I know. You think I didn’t see your phone earlier? I saw the message.”
He stiffened.
She continued, voice cracking, “They said they’re watching me.”
Elijah’s breath froze in his lungs.
“Eden… I didn’t want to scare you.”
“You didn’t want to lose me,” she corrected. “But you were losing me anyway.”
The wind whipped her hair across her face, her shoulders curling inwards as if she were trying to make herself smaller.
“Do you know why I came here?” she asked suddenly.
He shook his head.
“Because you’re not the only one who remembers this place.” Her voice softened to a trembling whisper. “Mom brought me here once. Before everything got bad. She said it was the only place in town that made sense. I didn’t know what she meant… but I think I do now.”
Elijah swallowed hard. “What do you think she meant?”
“That Briar Ridge eats people,” Eden said. “It eats secrets. It eats the truth. It eats us. And once you’re part of it, you never get to leave.”
Her fingers tightened on the edge of the beam.
“I’m scared, Dad.”
He felt his chest split open.
“I know,” he whispered. “And I’m scared too.”
Eden looked at him then—really looked at him—for the first time in weeks. Her eyes were red, swollen, and full of something that hurt more than anger.
Hopelessness.
Elijah reached out his hand slowly.
She hesitated.
“I can’t fix the whole town,” he said. “And maybe I can’t even fix all the damage I’ve done. But I can fix one thing.”
She sniffed. “What thing?”
“You and me.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“For that… I need you with me. Not out here alone.”
The wind blew between them.
Finally—after what felt like a lifetime—Eeden placed her small, cold hand in his.
He exhaled shakily, gripping it like a lifeline.
She let him pull her away from the edge.
Her legs wobbled when she stood, and Elijah steadied her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t resist.
“Dad?” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Someone came to my window last night.”
Elijah froze.
Her next words felt like ice.
“He told me to warn you. He said… if you don’t stop, the river’s going to take someone else.”
Elijah held her tighter. “Did you see his face?”
“No.” Her voice trembled. “He wore a mask. One with no eyes.”
Elijah’s blood ran cold.
The eyeless drawings.
The nightmares.
The threats.
It wasn’t her imagination.
Someone had been there.
Watching her.
Watching the house.
Watching him.
“We’re leaving the bridge,” Elijah said firmly. “Now.”
As they walked back down the tracks together, he kept her tucked under his arm, scanning the tree line with sharp eyes.
He had found her.
But he wasn’t relieved.
Not anymore.
Because Eden’s final whisper stayed lodged in his mind like a hook.
“Dad… what if the river doesn’t want you to win?”