Sarah drew in a shallow breath.

“I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong and she said she couldn’t take it anymore. She was so . . . sad. But that word doesn’t really come close to describing it.” A pause. “I’ve never seen sadness like that before,” she finally said. “It was incredibly unnerving.”

“Couldn’t take what anymore?” Detective Bancroft asked.

“She didn’t say, just kept going on and on and finally started saying the world would be better off without her. She apologized for hurting her family and said she needed to let them move on from her.” Michelle coughed and her voice thickened. “She went into the kitchen, and I thought I had finally talked her down, then I remembered she kept the gun in the cabinet above the sink. When I went in there, she had it and was holding it to her head.” A sob sounded and Sarah’s eyes teared up in sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Nelson, I know this is really hard,” Detective Attwood’s soothing voice broke in.

“I screamed at her to put it down and she wouldn’t. She just kept crying and saying she was tired of all the pain. She was frustrated that she wanted to make a difference in the world and couldn’t. She said she was worth nothing and didn’t deserve to live.” She coughed.

“Here, take a sip of this, ma’am.”

After a brief pause, she cleared her throat. “I lunged at her and grabbed the gun. It surprised her so much, she jerked. I remember the gunshot, the pain. Someone holding my hand? Then waking up here.” Another pause. “Where’s Brianne? Please tell me I stopped her.”

Silence.

A sob. “No, oh no.”

Wetness on her cheeks startled Sarah and she raised a hand to swipe away the tears. Gavin rubbed her arm and she realized how grateful she was for his presence. He was sticking close because he cared. He’d always cared.

Her phone vibrated and she snatched it from her pocket. Her father? Calling her? A quick rage swept through her and she disconnected the call. Hesitated a fraction of a second, then blocked his number.

She tuned back in to hear Michelle say, “. . . she really did it?”

“I’m so sorry,” Detective Bancroft said.

“This is so unreal.”

“Mrs. Nelson,” Detective Attwood said, “do you know a man by the name of Sam Wilmont?”

“No.” Sniff. “Why?”

“He was in Brianne’s house,” Caden said, “when my sister and a friend went to see her. He said he was there to deliver some medicine Brianne had left at the hospital.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of him and I don’t remember him being there before everything happened.” She sighed. “I’m sorry . . .”

“Looks like she’s dropped off back to sleep.” Sarah thought it was the older woman’s voice. “I’m sorry.”