I rip open the plain white envelope and pull out a note:

I know what really happened. Poor Cash.

My heart thumps in my chest as I scan the street. There is no one around. I leave the dry cleaning and rush inside. Why would the dry cleaner leave this? No, it wasn’t him. I take a deep breath. Is someone watching me? This is a note from a different person. An accusing person.

Calm down, Delilah Jane.

Or was this note left by Betsy? Yes, that’s it. Of course, to throw us off her trail. She’s bringing up the stupid dog again for some reason. First his bowl, now this. She’s so ridiculous.

I rush into the kitchen, grab a brown paper bag. I practice my breathing. In and out. Slowly. Calm down from my anger. Anger triggers panic attacks, too, did you know that?

Did Betsy leave me this note? No, of course not. It is for Betsy. Betsy lured her sister to the park, took her to an out-of-bounds closed trail. Mary’s old boyfriend Brad knows that she never went on out-of-bounds hikes. That wasn’t her style. She was a rule follower, for the most part. Her college friends know that, they all wrote me notes, telling me how happy she was, so excited for sophomore year to begin. Just look at her Facebook memorial page. She’s happy. Loving life.

Sure, Mary and I had a fight the morning she died, and this one was bigger than the one the night before with the red dress. This fight was nothing epic, just the typical mother-daughter kind of disagreement, but it was big enough that she raced out of the house, slamming the door.

“You can’t stop me from seeing my biological mother. Don’t try. And do not threaten her or me like that,” Mary yelled. She stood in the courtyard, Cash on a leash by her side.

“Yes, I can. It’s in the paperwork. You were never to meet, let alone go live with her. I will not allow it.” I spoke calmly. I was dead serious. It would not happen.

“I like Elizabeth. She’s brilliant and loving. Heck, anyone would be an improvement over you,” Mary said as she turned and ran out the gate.

The memory of that moment clenches my stomach every time. But our last fight is not important, not anymore. The real question is, who saw her between the time she left the house and when she fell to her death?

Betsy did.

Betsy heard some of our fight that morning, I know. She appeared in the courtyard behind me.

“You’re unbelievable!” she said before she followed after her sister.