Free Final Breath by Kevin O'Brien Page A

Eli, too--but mostly her. They asked about different Movers & Shakers stories she'd done for On the Edge . One woman asked if she'd hurt her foot recently or something. Sydney gave the woman her standard answer, "Oh. I just have this limp from an accident years ago." A few party guests asked about Sloan Roberts. How well did she know him? Was he dating anyone? Or as Howard bluntly put it: "So--Sydney, fess up. Does Sloan play for my team? Is he gay or what?"
    Sydney had to admit she'd met Sloan Roberts only about a dozen times and never had a private audience with him. Sloan certainly hadn't confided in her about his personal life. She hated disappointing Kyle's friends, but despite her bimonthly appearance on a top-rated TV newsmagazine show, she didn't have a lot of celebrity connections.
    Still, that hadn't stopped her from being the center of attention most of the evening--at least, until the fireworks.
    "Is Eli bored to smithereens?" Kyle asked.
    With a sigh, Sydney looked over toward the railing, where Eli had stood just a minute before. But he wasn't there anymore. She started to glance around the rooftop.
    Suddenly, one of the women at the party let out a shriek, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"
    There were screams from people on the roof of the apartment building next door, and they weren't looking at the fireworks display. Some of them pointed to Kyle's building.
    Sydney raced toward the banister, where one of the party guests stood, gaping down. Sydney glanced over the railing, and for a moment, her heart stopped.
    There, suspended four stories above the stone patio, was her son. Eli clung to a storm drain along the roof's edge. He had nothing beneath him to break his fall. The gutter let out a groan--as if it might give and snap off at any moment. Eli looked terrified. Sydney could see him trembling. He had tears in his eyes. With one hand, he tried to grab at the bottom of the railing, but it was just out of his reach.
    "It's okay, honey!" she cried out to him. "Don't try to move!"
    Without thinking, Sydney immediately kicked off her shoes, then hoisted herself up over the banister. She scooted along the roof's edge until she was almost directly above Eli.
    The other party guests didn't seem to know how to help. Frantic, they gathered toward that side of the roof. "Help me get something down there to break his fall!" one man cried. Then he and another guest ducked inside. Howard kept screaming that they should call the police or the fire department. Kyle had gotten down on his stomach and thrust his arms through the bars in an effort to retrieve him, but Eli was too far away.
    The gutter creaked again, and Sydney could see it buckling from Eli's weight.
    "Oh, God, Mom, help...please..." he whispered.
    "You're going to be all right, honey," she said, crouching down. The heels of her bare feet stuck out over the roof's edge. She gripped a railing bar with one hand, then reached down to her son. Through the bars, her brother grabbed her arm with both hands. Kyle clung to her so tightly, it almost cut off her circulation.
    Fireworks lit up the sky, accompanied by loud booms and blasts. But no one was looking up.
    "Hold on!" somebody was yelling from a rooftop across the way.
    Four stories down, two of Kyle's friends ran out to the patio with sofa cushions and pillows. They made a pile directly below where Eli was dangling. One of them ran inside--obviously for more objects to cushion the impact should Eli fall.
    Sydney managed to get ahold of Eli's wrist. The storm drain let out another yawn. She braced herself. "I have you," she said, tightening her grip. "You can let go of the gutter now. I won't drop you, honey, I swear."
    Eli bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. He let go of the gutter.
    The sudden weight almost pulled her down, but Sydney held on. Wincing, she started to hoist him up, but Eli was heavier than she thought. For a moment, she thought he might yank her arm out of its socket.
    Howard got down on his