Fender

“I’ve got to get this off.” Kate is scrubbing at the wall over the bed with her sleeve.

“Kate…,” I say. “There’s no point.”

“You knew!” she suddenly screams. “You knew she was dead and you didn’t tell us!”

The words hit me like bullets. Kate’s right. I know that. I should have told her yesterday, right after the harbor.

“It’s not true, is it?” Kate looks at me, pleading. “Tell me she’s not dead.”

I can see she’s going through the same roller coaster of emotions as me. From fury to grief to denial and back again.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

Kate collapses, wrapping her hands over her head like a helmet. She rocks gently back and forth to the rhythm of her sobs.

I want to put my arm around her. I want to say that it’s all one big nightmare.

“How long have you known?”

I jump at the sound of Lucas’s voice.

“Since yesterday. I got a letter.”

“You’ve known for a day?” Lucas looks at me in disbelief. “Do you have the letter here?”

I take the note and the copy of it from my pocket and give one to Lucas and the other to Kate.

While they’re both reading, I gaze around the room. The words seem to come off the walls toward me, closing me in.

“Who gave you these letters?” Lucas looks at me. “Was it her?”

I shake my head. “Room service came to the door when you were at the pool. That was the silver dome that you saw in our room. Someone in the hotel is doing this.”

The words struggle to come out, like syrup from a bottle.

“I found the first one on my doormat yesterday. He must have sent that one too.”

“He?” echoes Lucas.

“Someone who knew her.” I take the death notice from my jeans pocket. “He says we murdered her.”

The color drains from Lucas’s face. Cursing, he turns around and clutches his hair.

Kate looks at me through a haze of tears. Her mascara has left lines down her cheeks.

“You should have told us!” Kate gets to her feet. Standing on the mattress, she’s more than a head taller than me.

Then she punches me in the chest.

“She was my best friend. And now she’s dead.”

I don’t want her to say that. I don’t want to hear it.

“Stop it.”

“Why?” Kate hits me again. “It’s true, isn’t it? She’s dead because of us! Because of what happened last year!”

Inside my head I hear the scream again. It’s always there, like background music.

“Stop,” I say. “Please.”