Hallie rarely calls me during the week. She almost always saves her calls to me for the weekend. Then she’ll blabber on and on about her classes or all her suggestions for the many ways I should ask Rory on a date. I should never have expressed interest in Rory last Christmas Eve. It was a huge mistake. Rory was still seventeen and I was twenty. I knew she was off limits. But that tight white sweater dress she wore to Christmas Eve dinner at our house completely changed the way I saw her. Then, when I saw her laughing as she and Hallie shook the presents to try to guess what was inside, laughing about vibrators as Christmas gifts, it was like a switch was flipped inside me. And I wasn’t able to stop thinking about her for months.

Then I started going out with Kim a couple of months ago, a few months after Rory turned eighteen, and Kim’s been doing an okay job of keeping my mind off my sister’s friend. But that hasn’t stopped Hallie from trying to set us up. She insists Rory and I belong together, whatever the fuck that means. I think it’s possible to believe you belong with anyone if you spend enough time with them. It’s like Stockholm syndrome.

Nevertheless, I’m surprised to see Hallie’s name flashing on my phone screen on a Thursday morning. If it were anyone else, I’d hit the red ignore button. But part of being a big brother to a pretty girl like Hallie is that I always worry about her when she’s not around. Especially now that she’s in college.

I hit the green button to answer the call and whisper into the phone so my Financial Markets professor can’t hear. “Hey.”

“Houston, I need you to come over here at one o’clock.”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you… about Rory… before she gets back from class. Please.” Hallie’s voice sounds strangled as if she’s been crying or she’s about to start.

“Are you okay?”

She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Yes. Will you come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“At one o’clock. Don’t forget. And don’t be late. Rory gets here at two so you need to come before that. Okay?”

Professor Hardwick casts a sharp glare in my direction.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

I end the call and flash the professor a tight smile as I tuck my phone back into my pocket. I don’t know what Hallie needs to talk about, but it better be more urgent than another attempt to set me up with Rory. If it’s not, I’ll need to have a stern discussion with her about calling me during class.

An hour and forty minutes later, I pull my hood over my head and trudge through the light snow across campus to Hamilton Complex. The snow showed up as soon as we got back from Thanksgiving break three days ago. Most everyone grumbles about it, but we hardly ever got snow in McMinnville so I’ve enjoyed it since coming to UO three years ago.

The snow crunches under my boots and the fresh white powder reminds me of Rory in that dress. I wonder what Hallie wants to talk to me about. Maybe she’s going to tell me that Rory’s really a man and I can stop lusting after her. Or maybe she’s not even going to be in the dorm when I get there. Maybe she’s tricked me and Rory into meeting up without her. The same way she used to force her Barbie and Ken dolls to go on dates. Now kiss!

I enter Watson Hall at Hamilton Complex and make my way up to the third floor corridor. I reach room 301, Hallie and Rory’s dorm room, and knock three times. Hallie doesn’t answer so I knock a little harder this time, in case she’s wearing her headphones. That’s when I notice the door isn’t closed all the way. I knock again, in case she’s changing or something, then I push the door in slowly.

“I’m coming in,” I say, announcing myself as an extra precaution.

Once the door is all the way open, my vision blurs. My heart gets a massive jolt, like a horse kick in the chest. Hallie is lying in her twin bed, a clear plastic bag over her head. I rush in and quickly undo the Velcro around her neck. I yank off the bag, but she doesn’t open her eyes.

“Hallie, this isn’t funny. Wake up!” I shake her shoulders. I yell her name. But she doesn’t respond. “What the fuck?”

I glance at the bag on the floor and notice a couple of plastic tubes that must have fallen out when I tore the bag off. The tubes lead to a helium tank. What the fuck was she doing?

“Wake up, Hal!” I shout, crouched at her bedside as I press two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. “Come on. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking happening. No, no, no. What were you thinking?”

I can’t find a pulse. I stand up and pull my phone out of my pocket to dial 911, but I’m interrupted when I notice a white envelope clutched in Hallie’s right hand. My heart hurts so much, I’m afraid I might be having a heart attack. I reach for the envelope and let out a wretched groan when her stiff fingers don’t immediately let go.

I cover my mouth to stifle the sobs when I see my name written on the envelope. She planned this. From the moment she called me two hours ago, and probably well before that, she knew.

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

I whip my head around at the sound of the female voice and for a moment I’m terrified it’s Rory. But when I turn around it’s a brunette I don’t recognize.

“Call 911!” I shout at her. “Now!”

“Holy shit,” she whispers as she fumbles in her pocket for her phone.

I learned CPR when I was sixteen and I got a summer job as a lifeguard, but I never expected I would need to use what I learned to try to bring my baby sister back from the dead. I scoop her up off the bed and lay her gently on the floor. Then I proceed with the chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth.

My mind knows it’s too late, but my heart tells me to keep going. So I keep plunging her fragile breastbone and pumping breath after breath into her deflated lungs. When the paramedics arrive, it takes them a moment to pry my arms from around her limp body. Then, I begin to lose time.

I see flashes of what’s happening around me, but I can’t make sense of any of it. It’s as if my body is here, tucked in the corner of Hallie’s dorm, watching as the medics work on her, but my mind is somewhere else. This must not be happening. Or it’s happening to someone else. That’s not my sister. That is not my sister.

I collapse onto the wooden desk chair in the corner of the dorm and it’s as if the hardness of the chair has woken me to the harsh reality I’ve found myself trapped in. Hallie is placed on a stretcher and the medic continues to apply chest compressions as they roll her out of the dorm.

What time is it? If Rory gets here now, she’ll be beyond shattered. I reach into my pocket to check the time on my phone as I follow the stretcher down the corridor. It’s 1:36 p.m. Hallie said Rory would be here at two. She obviously didn’t want Rory to find her, either. But why did she want me to find her? Did she think I could handle this better than Rory?

They wheel the stretcher into the elevator and I squeeze inside with them, trying not to look at her gray skin.

The medic who’s pumping the oxygen bag sees my discomfort and offers me his condolences. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Why do you guys keep doing that? She’s obviously dead.”

“Do you have a DNR for her?” the guy applying the chest compressions asks. “If not, we have to keep doing this until she gets to the hospital.”

It’s a cold response. No apology or attempt at consolation. Just a big Shut the fuck up and let us do our job. I want to shove him into the wall of the elevator, maybe break his head open, so he’ll stop repeatedly crushing my dead sister’s chest. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse, could it?

It can. I need to honor Hallie’s final words to me and make sure Rory doesn’t make it back to the dorm before I explain everything to her. I can’t let her come back from class and find out on her own from some stranger.

When the elevator reaches the first floor, I let the medics out first. I follow behind them a few more paces, ignoring the onlookers, then I poke the oxygen bag operator on his shoulder.

“Do you need me to ride with you or can I meet you all at the hospital? I have to call my family.”

“No, go ahead and do what you need to do. She’s going to Sacred Heart on Hilyard.”

I call my mom as I head back to the dorm, but I can’t understand a word she says after I break the news to her. Her incoherent wailing fills my chest with an excruciating ache. Somehow, I maintain enough composure to convince her to call a friend so she can get a ride to the hospital.

When I get to the third floor, the campus police have blocked off the entrance to Hallie’s dorm to conduct their investigation. I keep glancing at the time on my phone as I answer their questions. Finally, one of the officers asks me why I keep looking at my phone.

I squint at him in disbelief. “You have some fucking nerve to ask me that. My sister just committed suicide. I promised my mom I’d call her back after I talked to you all. And I have to notify the people that care about her before they find out from someone else. Are we done here?”

He looks like he’s ready to chew me out, but his partner beats him to it. “We’re good. If we need anything else, we’ll give you a call,” he says, patting my arm. “Sorry about your sister.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

I turn to head back toward the elevator when I see Rory stepping out into the corridor. Her eyes are wide with fright and her fair skin is flushed pink. Someone must have already told her what happened.

“No!” she wails as she sees the officers and the crime scene tape over the door. “Hallie!” She races toward us and I catch her around the waist to stop her. “Where is she?”

“She’s gone.” My voice is gruff and shaky as the tears return. “Hallie’s gone.”

“No! Stop lying! Let me go!”

She fights me every step of the way as I carry her back to the elevator. Once we’re in the cabin, she stops fighting and collapses into a heap on the floor. When the elevator reaches the first floor, I help her up and we both walk out of Hamilton Complex in a daze.

I have to call my mom to make sure she found a ride, but I can’t bring myself to do it with Rory here. I know it will only cause her to break down. Ten minutes later, Rory and I arrive at the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art. Instinctively, I grab her hand and lead her up the icy steps toward the entrance. We need to get out of the cold, though I’m not sure it matters. I don’t think either of us can feel anything right now.

I fumble in my wallet when they ask for my student ID so they can let us in for free. We walk the halls like zombies, searching for something to bring us back to life, some piece of art that proves beauty transcends pain, but nothing stands out. We reach the Reflection Garden and head outside again, undaunted by the dusting of snow covering the path around the reflection pool.

The garden is small and empty, so we instantly gravitate toward the stone statues. Two genderless stone figures kneel in front of a large stone shell. One figure plays a flute while the other strums a small instrument held against its chest. We stare at the statues for a moment before Rory finally speaks.

“I can’t go back there.”

Fat tears roll down her cheeks and I glance over my shoulder, hoping no one comes out here to interrupt us. Then I take her in my arms and she sobs into my chest, thick, pitiful cries that sound about as pleasing as nails on a chalkboard. But only because I can’t make them stop.

“You don’t have to go back. You can stay with me.”

She sniffs loudly and draws in a stuttered breath. “No, I can’t.”

She lets go of me and covers her face. I reach up and gently pry her hands away, but she still won’t look at me. Her eyelids are puffy and the whites of her eyes are bloodshot, but she looks even more beautiful than she did when I first noticed her in that white dress.

“Yes, you can. You’re coming to my apartment now.”

“I can’t. I need my stuff.”

“We’ll get it later. Besides, I have to go somewhere private so I can call my mom.” I brush the moisture away from her cheek. “Come with me. I don’t think I can do it alone.”

She finally looks up at me, but she only meets my gaze for a second before she turns away. “Okay.” She tucks her hands into her coat pockets and stares at the statues for a moment. “She told me not to come back until two. Why were you already there?”

“She told me to come at one. She said you were coming back at two.”

She shakes her head and wipes more tears. “My class ended at 12:30. She texted me and told me not to come back till two. I just don’t understand why.”

I think of the white envelope tucked in my back pocket, and consider opening it up right here, but it was addressed to me, not Rory. I have to open it alone.

I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her back into the museum. “We may never know why.”