"What's going on...?"

Casper's dad runs his hands over his face, taking a few deep breaths. "Boys. Caitlin passed away this morning."

No. No, no, no.

That isn't.

It's not.

"We just..."

I can't breathe.

"...saw her. Last night. She was..."

My voice cracks. Adam grabs my hand.

"We think she might have overdosed on her morphine pills," Robert whispers. "Whether it was on purpose or not..."

If I weren't already sitting, I would have hit the floor by now.

Where is that all-encompassing numbness I felt when Maggie died? I want it back. I want to feel nothing because this hurts too much and seeing Robert's miserable, heart-broken face is going to kill me.

"You boys. You two were..." He's crying now, every word a struggle to keep steady, to force out. "You made her so happy. She had friends who were there for her as much as you were and I'm...so very, very grateful. I can't even begin to..."

He presses a hand over his face.

Robert excuses himself and vanishes into the back room. One of the ladies from the living room, who I think must be an aunt of Casper's, explains Amanda is lying down and Robert might not be the best for company right now. She's very kind, but it's clear we are not family and thus aren't welcome in the house at this exact moment in time.

We climb into the van. We drive home. Scale the stairs. We sit side-by-side on the bed, holding hands. I can feel Adam's pulse through his thumb pressed against my knuckle.

Breathe in. Breathe out. We are alive. And she's gone.

It hurts.

I sleep with my face pressed into Adam's neck, where my tears have dried. Our legs are tangled together. Hands clasped tightly.

Breathe in, breathe out. Over and over again.

Just to prove a broken heart can't really kill you.

CHAPTER 28

From: C Harms <[email protected]>

To: Vincent H. <[email protected]>;

Adam Roxy <[email protected]>

Subject: Darling Boys

I think the bridge was this grand thought in my head because I wanted to go out with a bang, you know? Fly off into oblivion or whatever. I can't say I'm sorry enough for putting you both through that. I almost made a huge mistake.

But I meant it, you know? When I said I was ready to go.

It was the method I chose that was all wrong.

I hate that my parents will find me.

I hate that you'll be angry with me.

Maybe not at first, but you will. Eventually. It's all part of the process, isn't it?

I didn't leave them that letter. I realized they aren't going to get the money from my life-insurance policy if it comes out I killed myself, and God knows they're going to need the fundage for all the medical bills I've racked up.

But this whole situation is pretty FUBAR without any real fix that will make everyone happy. I guess that's life. And death. And everything in-between.