Part 2Pure White Tomorrow

The very next day, Brenda and her husband knocked on my door.

They weren't carrying flowers. They were holding a medical report.

"Nora, look at what you did to my daughter!" Brenda screamed, throwing the papers directly at my face.

"The doctor said Paul’s shoulder ligaments are severely torn, and her joint capsule is ruined! She has habitual dislocation now! Her arm is going to pop out of its socket at the slightest tug!"

I stared at her, utterly bewildered. "That... that happened during the rescue. I had to hold her..."

"You did this!" Brenda’s husband snarled, shoving his finger in my face. "Paul told us you squeezed her arm so hard it hurt. You're an adult. Couldn't you have been gentler? You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I had nearly ruined my own arm to save their child from plunging to her death, and now they were blaming me for the minor injuries sustained during her rescue.

"I was losing my grip," I said, my voice trembling with rage. "It was either hold on tight or let her fall. How could I possibly control my grip strength in that moment? Would you have done any better?"

"How do we know you didn't do it on purpose?" Brenda spat, her eyes wild with malice. "Maybe you're just jealous because you don't have kids of your own!"

They demanded fifty thousand dollars for medical bills, physical therapy, and emotional distress.

I refused.

"Your wife is the one who wasn't watching her child!" I yelled back. "She fell because of your neglect! I saved her life! Instead of thanking me, you're trying to extort me? What is wrong with you people?"

My words pushed them over the edge.

"How dare you deflect the blame!" her husband roared.

They lunged at me, pushing and shoving me back onto the balcony.

In the chaotic scuffle, they shoved me right against the low railing. My feet slipped.

Suddenly, I was falling.

The wind roared in my ears, and the horrified screams of pedestrians below quickly faded into a muffled hum.

I fell from the sixth floor like a bird with clipped wings.

In my final seconds of consciousness, only one thought flashed through my mind:

How pathetic. The girl who fell from the twelfth floor survived, but the woman who saved her was murdered.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my bedroom. It was noon on the day of the accident.

Instead of staying in to take a nap, I got up, put on some light makeup, dressed in a nice outfit, and left the apartment.

I went shopping, watched a movie, and ordered a nice lunch at a café. I did everything I usually avoided.

I wanted to be as far away from that building as possible. I wanted to make sure nobody could find me.