If she knew about that diary.

Who is this?

Dr. Marino says.

My tears crack wide open

again and I am crying

without saying

a word.

Before I could not cry.

Now, maybe,

I’ll never stop.

Lizzie,

I say at last.

Elizabeth Chapman?

he says.

My sister,

I say.

Hope?

Mari’s voice is soft at the crack

of the closet door.

Are you okay?

I shake my head no.

The pain in my heart is

so deep I don’t think I

can take a full breath.

Hope?

Dr. Marino says,

his voice as soft as Mari’s.

What do you

have for me?

Lizzie

alone

in the hospital,

painting my belt,

waiting at home

while I play with my friends.

Watching

out

for

me.

This is . . .

I say.

You know what kind

of trouble I can get into

from that?

This is . . .

I say again.

Tell him,

Mari says.

Tell him, Hope.

Oh Jesus,

dear Jesus,

I say.

In my head

I see Lizzie.

Hope,

I love you.

How could I do it?

I say to Dr. Marino.

How could I leave her?

There are no words

for the sickness that fills my body.

Yes, go ahead, I’m listening,

the doctor says.

Dear Jesus.

Dear Jesus.

You can do it, Hope,

Mari says.

Tell him.

I can’t say it,

I say to Mari,

who knows what the diary says

too.

Tell him who you are,

she says.

Hope?

Dr. Marino says.

Those weren’t crying dreams,

I say.

I suck in a deep breath of air.

I can smell the leather

of Mari’s shoes.

They were real.

My voice is a whisper again.

Hope, I’m listening.

I hurt not just down there.

Can’t you please

stay with me, Hope?

Hope?

My sister,

my sister.

Tell for your best sister.

I squish my eyes closed

and take in another deep breath.

Dr. Marino is quiet.

You can do it,

Mari says.

Again I gulp in air.

I found the diary,

I say.

The one you wanted that

Lizzie wrote.

I found the diary and I

know what’s been

happening with my

sister.

112.

Mari

waits for me.

I put the phone

in the cradle,

squeeze my eyes shut, and

wait

because

I have to.

The door

opens

without a sound.

Leave me just one

more minute,

I say,

not looking up

because it feels

like a rock has settled on

my shoulders.

Momma says,

Get the hell

out of those shoes

and let’s get going.

What?

I say.

For a moment

I cannot breathe.

It’s like she has

her hand around my throat

though all Momma

does is look down at

where I am.

Then she reaches for me

and behind Momma

is Mari

and her mother

and her father

and even Mattie,

all surprised

with looking.

Come with me,

Momma says,

reaching.

No,

I say and

I scoot back into the

belly of this closet,

away from Momma

who keeps coming

with an arm

that seems way too long.