“I won’t let go. I promise.”
I grip his hand tighter like it’ll fuse us together. If we’re together, nothing bad will happen.
The drive is short and when we pull up, I let out a sigh of relief. Mallory’s car is in the driveway.
“She’s here,” I whisper.
The second the car stops, I jump out. Myles hurries around the car, taking my hand again, and together we walk toward the door.
The future is wrong.
I know it is. It has to be.
I’m going to walk in and Mallory is going to be here.
I step inside. “Mallory?”
There’s no reply, but I tell myself she’s just ignoring me.
I rush up the steps, calling her name again as I run into her room.
The room is empty. Perfect as always. There’s no clutter or dust. It’s almost like there’s no sign she’s been home.
“Maybe she’s in the bathroom,” Myles suggests, but I don’t hear him.
I’m drawn to her bed. There’s a sheet of paper lying in the center of the pink comforter. It’s her handwriting, but it’s not as neat as usual. It’s rough and loose like she was writing it in a rush.
By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.
I’m sorry for what I did.
I’m sorry for disappointing you.
But I can’t live with myself anymore.
The letter turns into lead and it falls through my hands.
There’s screaming and I’m so numb it takes me a moment to realize it’s coming from me.
Myles grabs the letter and I flee the room.
My eyes blur all over again. “Mallory!” I yell at the top of my lungs. I run through every room in the house, trying to find her, but she isn’t in here.
I plow through the door, screaming her name.
What did I miss while I was gone today? How could I have been so oblivious to her pain? I should’ve known sheneeded help when I found the homework, but I was so focused on keeping Myles away from her I didn’t see how badly she was hurting.
My voice is raw, but I keep calling for her.
Myles is right beside me, face pale with the note in his hand.
I pull out my phone again, sobbing, desperate to be misunderstanding her note. I press her contact and hold the phone to my ear.
The phone picks up on the other end, but she doesn’t say anything. There’s only the faint sound of water.
“Mallory?” I cry, rubbing my forehead with my other hand. “Tell me where you are!”
“I’m sorry,” she cries.
