“Marley, no. No, no, no,” Olivia said, clutching her stomach and rocking. “Why . . . God, why?”

No answer.

Only the birds crying outside, an echo to the pain inside her, and silence from her beautiful twenty-one-year-old sister, golden hair plastered to her head, blue eyes sightless.

Trembling, Olivia rose and went into the bathroom, snagging a cheap hand towel before going back to her sister’s body.

Carefully, she rolled Marley onto her back, wiping the vomit from her face and closing her eyes. She smoothed the hair from her face, tucking the strands behind her ears, brushing her cheek with the back of her hand. Her mind tripped over itself on what to do—call the police, how to tell her parents, how to get Marley’s car back to her apartment. She stood, and that’s when she saw a page from the motel notepad lying on the bed.

Marley’s handwriting scrawled across the page.

I couldn’t do it anymore. I’m sorry. Forgive me.

Olivia lifted the note, closing her eyes. Marley had done this on purpose. She’d no longer wanted to live.

The paper shook in her hands, and her knees gave way. Olivia thunked onto the unmade bed, her gaze never leaving Marley’s words on that paper.

She’d done this on purpose.

Anger flooded Olivia, intermingling with the shock and sorrow. Crushing the note in her hand, Olivia closed her eyes, squeezing them hard, trying not to scream with primeval rage.

Her sister had killed herself.

“You’re so stupid, Marley. Stupid. What about us, huh? We have to live with the thought we weren’t worth you trying to live. We loved you, you asshole. Why did you do this?” she asked her silent sister. She wanted to punch a hole in the wall in anger, frustration, absolute grief.

But maybe no one had to know. Not if there had been no note. Her parents wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that their child had chosen death over life. Everyone knew Marley had a drug problem. One of her roommates had shared her alarm one night when she couldn’t get Marley to wake up. If the note was never seen, no one would know that it was intentional and not an accident.

Olivia shoved the crumpled note into her pocket and walked outside to her car. She’d left it unlocked in her panic, and thankfully her purse was still sitting in the passenger seat. She pulled out her phone and dialed 911, knowing that her life would never be the same again.

No more OREOs in bed with Conrad. She knew that deep in her bones. Because Conrad still loved Marley, and she knew him well enough to know that this would break him. This would take what they had last night and shred it into nothingness.

She and Conrad were over.

Done.

Gone was the life she could have had with him.