Emma clung tightly to the rusted railing, her feet precariously balanced on the narrow concrete ledge supporting the fence. The night wind whipped her hair around and pressed her T-shirt against her body. Below, the county road wound like a dark ribbon, lit by the dim glow of the streetlights and, now and then, by the headlights of the few vehicles passing at that hour.

S he weighed whether it would be better to throw herself off while the road was empty or wait until a vehicle was coming. The bridge was not very high, and if she could also manage to be struck by a car, death would be almost certain.

She had searched online for the minimum height needed to kill herself and found wildly contradictory answers. Some claimed that just a few yards would be enough, while others said she would have to jump from a skyscraper at the very least.

The bridge had been built to span a drop in elevation and connect the two most important parts of town. A road ran beneath it where vehicles traveled at a fair speed, though perhaps not fast enough to keep them from braking in time if she jumped down in front of them.

The fence hung over open space, and climbing to the other side was dangerous and took some effort. But what did she have to lose if she fell? Her life?

She climbed onto the railing and, with difficulty, managed to get over to the outer side. There, she could remain standing on the narrow strip of concrete—barely a few inches wide—only by gripping the fence with both arms.

She faced forward, looking down as the occasional vehicle passed below. There was not much traffic at that hour of the morning, especially not trucks, which would probably have been the most reliable vehicles if she wanted to be struck.

A light breeze had risen behind her, stirring her hair so that it blew into her mouth and across her eyes. Her hair was not long, but it was long enough for that.

She was uncomfortable. The position was awkward, and her arms were growing tired from supporting her body, which rested only on the narrow ledge. Besides, she had already been there for a while, and one of the oncoming drivers had most likely seen her. The last thing she needed was for the vehicle to stop and its occupant to come lecture her. But that was the whole point of holding that position: to tire herself out so completely that, when her strength finally gave out, she would have no choice but to fall.

She began to cry for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Now, on the brink of death, with her hair tossing in the wind and tears streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks, the awful migraine tormenting her seemed to have given her a reprieve. Yet while the physical pain had eased, the emotional pain was more intense than ever. A crushing anguish consumed her, a burning knot in her chest that kept her from breathing normally. Throwing herself into the void seemed like the only possible way to end such unbearable suffering.

"Why am I still here?" she wondered. "All you have to do is let go. One second of courage, and it will all be over."

She thought of her parents. Her mother’s permanently disappointed face, her father’s weary, guilty expression. She thought of Savannah and Madison laughing at her for years. Of sleepless nights. Of the scars on her wrists. Of how much she hated herself every time she looked in the mirror.

She looked back because she thought she had heard the unmistakable sound of a large vehicle. A moment later, it appeared around a curve. It was not a truck, but a delivery van. She had calculated that the precise moment to jump would be when it reached a certain point—after that, the driver would no longer have time to brake before she struck the pavement.

At that moment, she remembered God. The God who had never paid any attention to her, who had never helped her at all, even though she had begged Him over and over to keep Madison and Savannah away from her. A God she had long since forgotten for that very reason. A God who, for reasons she could not understand, slipped into her thoughts at that precise moment after all those years of seeming to have forgotten her.

The vehicle drew closer, then closer still, and if everything went according to plan, in a few seconds all the suffering would finally be over.

"My God!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help me!"