“Untie me,” Matt says.
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s fine,” he says. “Really. I’m not going to do anything.”
I hesitate, glancing toward the hallway. That sounds like one sure way to get my special visitor status revoked.
“Don’t you trust me?” he says. And that’s when I realize, I still do. Even though I know he lied when he said he wouldn’t really have jumped, he’s never lied to me about anything before. It was all right there, out in the open. Everything about him is one big cry for help and I completely missed it.
I reach for the buckles on the restraints, maybe only for selfish reasons. I want his arms around me. I want to pretend everything’s okay, for one last minute, before he’s whisked away from me for who knows how long and possibly comes back changed.
Maybe it’s a test. Of him, of me, of God, of the universe. Because, even as I free him, I know: If Matt lets me down, I’ll have nothing.