We’d carried the body as far upstream as we could, to allow it to get swept up in the current and carried over the waterfall. The last thing we needed was for it to get caught in the brambles near the warehouse and lead the cops directly there.

We maneuvered the body to the ledge and peered over. I had gone to a weird place inside myself. I’d always been good at compartmentalizing. I could create separate planets in which I dealt with life. Planet work. Planet mom. Planet wife. I’d learned how to do it the night my father died. He was in so much pain before he died, and I was so helpless, completely powerless against fate.

Now, as a doctor, I’d guess his spinal cord had been torn and he’d suffered massive trauma to his internal organs. I’d always been terrified I made it worse when I dragged him from the car. He died slowly, painfully, and all I could do was sit and watch as the flames from the car slowly extinguished into the blackness of night. That was the first time I really learned how to partition my life into neat little boxes. Before, and after.

The day of Mom and Dad’s funeral, I did the same thing. Ben and I were staying at a temporary foster home then. I woke early, and my whole body hurt, like ached with grief. I hadn’t just lost my parents; I’d lost my home and my bedroom and all my familiar things. And then when I sat down to pee I noticed my underwear was damp with blood, and I realized I’d lost my childhood, too.

I became a woman that day. Physically and mentally.

Later I would take this night out and examine it and hate myself for all the things I should’ve or shouldn’t have done. But for now I couldn’t afford to feel anything. There was too much at stake.

“On three,” I said. I didn’t even recognize my voice anymore.

We started to swing the body. Tendrils of dark hair wrapped around my wrist.

“Wait, wait!” I cried. “Did you put the fentanyl in her pocket?”

“Yes!” Gabe snapped. “I already told you.”

I hesitated again. A flickering ray of moonlight beamed down between racing clouds, brilliant and white as bone.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “On three.”

I stepped out of the moonlight and into the shadows, this time releasing the body.

We didn’t let go at the same time, though, so the body bounced against the ledge with a horrific thunk, spinning in the air then crashing into the river with a splash. Gabe bent over at the waist and retched, watery bile spewing onto the damp leaves. I watched as the body sank and then bobbed up again, then was swept downstream in the current. The black water moved fast, completely nonchalant.