Beside it was a handwritten note, folded once, held down by Brian’s keys.

I didn’t want to open it. That’s the truth. Some part of me understood that whatever was written there would divide my life into before and after.

But Lily’s head was against my chest, her breath too warm through my shirt, and I had no right to protect myself from what she had already survived.

I opened it.

Dad, don’t overreact. Lily gets dramatic when she’s sick. We gave her something to sleep so she wouldn’t ruin Mason’s birthday trip again. We’ll be back Sunday.

Please don’t call anyone.