She woke up before me. When I stirred in bed, I glanced up to see her standing near the windowsill wearing one of my oversized T-shirts. The light from the sun spilled in, and I couldn’t fully grasp what had happened.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so happy.

She was really there. She’d come back to me.

She didn’t have a clue what she’d done for me. I’d spent six years locked in a cage, and she was the key to my freedom.

“Good morning,” I called, startling her, and she turned around to face me. In her hands was a notebook, one of the many that sat inside of my dresser. “What are you doing?”

Her eyes filled with worry, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I went into your dresser for a T-shirt, and I found this. It was open on top of everything, and I saw my name and—”

“It’s okay,” I told her, patting the spot beside me on the bed.

She joined me and sat up straight. “What are these, Eli?”

“Letters I wrote to you,” I told her. “I, um…TJ used to have me write down my hopes and fears in notebooks, to help with my music. After what happened, I gave up pretty much everything. Everything that meant anything good to me, but I couldn’t stop writing to you, even if you never read them. I think that’s why it worked for me. I knew you wouldn’t see them and try to make me feel better. I just bled onto the paper each night, writing down everything in my heart, everything I felt. Writing to you m-made me feel less alone, I guess. I was hard on myself, but at least in some shape or form I wasn’t alone. You were always there with me. You were always around.”

Tears fell down her cheeks, and I wiped them away. “Don’t cry. I never want to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” She sighed. “These entries…your pain… I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

“Hey,” I said, shaking my head. “I can breathe now. I can breathe.”

My lips grazed over hers, and she nodded. “You wrote these letters, and I wore your key. This is us…this has always been us.”

“This will always be us.”

“My favorite part was how you ended each letter, your P.S.”

I gently kissed her forehead, and we lay back down. I pulled her closer to me. “Also, I still love you,” I whispered, repeating the words I’d written so many times.

“Also, I still love you,” she echoed softly. “Can we just stay here? Can we ignore the world for a while?”

I smirked. “I wish, but I gotta get to TJ’. We have a music lesson, and he’ll kill me if I’m late.”

“That’s not a lie.”

I kissed her lips. “Let’s see each other afterward?”

“Yes. Dinner tonight, with Jason and Kelly, maybe?”

“I’d love to, but maybe tomorrow? I’m a bit busy tonight. Actually, I was going to ask you—do you think you can hang over at TJ’s tonight for a bit?”

She smiled. “Why? Is someone else sampling your chocolate this afternoon?”

“Depends. Would that make you jealous?” I joked.

“Jealous? Please, I hardly like you.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re hardly even cute, anyway. You’re actually kind of ugly.”

“Oh, is that so?” I stood up and lifted her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around me.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“To take a shower with me so I can show you just how ugly I can be.”

After we finished our shower, we got dressed, and just as we were about to leave the apartment, I got a call from Mom. “Hey, sorry we’re running behind a bit. I’m on my way now.”

“That’s not it, Elliott,” she said, her voice sounding somber.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just need to talk to you. We need to talk.”

“On my way.” I grabbed my coat and my keys as Jasmine looked at me, concerned.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but we gotta go.”

* * *

We arrived at TJ’s house, where he and Mom sat on the sofa. She brought us up to date with everything that was going on. “I should’ve told you right away, but I knew you two were out last night and—”

“You should’ve told us right away,” I huffed, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed.

“I know, I know.” She nodded. “I’m sorry, I was just stunned. I didn’t even tell TJ until this morning, and he had me call you right away.”

“This isn’t your mother’s doing, Elliott. Just remember that,” TJ said.

“They left a note?” Jasmine asked, reaching out toward Mom, taking the piece of paper. Her eyes danced across the words, and a weighted sigh fell from between her lips.

“Yes. It was in my mailbox yesterday afternoon. I wasn’t sure how to handle it…how to feel.”

“Can I see?” I asked Jasmine. She stood up and walked it over to me.

Ms. Adams,

I know this is crossing the line, and I hope someday you will forgive me for crossing it. After everything your family has suffered, it is ill of me to even reach out to you, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d always sit with a pit of regret and guilt in my stomach for not trying.

As you know, Todd is facing life in prison with no chance of parole. My son’s life is gone. He will spend the rest of his days behind bars for the act he committed six years ago. The day you lost your daughter, I, too, lost a child—definitely not to the same extreme as your loss, but still, there is a hollowness inside my entire being.

I wasn’t a good mother.

I never showed up when I should have, and I focused too much on work to really give any type of love to my children. I grew up in a home where love wasn’t common, and I seemed to carry that down in the way I raised my children.

I left them to their own destruction because I never gave them any order.

I figured if I had survived growing up in a house that was never a home then my sons would be fine too.

My older son was trouble, but not like Todd.

Todd was reckless. He was screaming for years for his father and me to notice him, and we ignored his shouts. We figured he’d grow out of it. We’d figured he’d make his way to college, still rebel, but come out with a career, a wife, and children.

Truth was, there was a darkness that hovered over Todd. It was a heavy cloud, and I realize now that I was the one who placed it there. I ignored his cries, so his days grew dark.

My son did the act, yes. He took your daughter’s life, but if there’s anyone else to blame, I know it’s me.

I should’ve loved him better. I should’ve done more.

Five years ago, my eldest son moved away, and I haven’t heard from him since. Three months ago, my husband took his own life. It was too much for him.

It’s been too much for us all.

Todd wrote me a few weeks back, asking me to reach out to you and your son. He wanted me to express how heavy his heart is with what happened, how weighted his pain is.

He wanted to know if he could somehow express that to you.

He wanted me to ask if you’d be willing to visit him at the Louisiana State Penitentiary.

I know this is a lot, and if I do not hear from you, I will fully understand and will not reach out again.

I again express my deepest sorrows for the loss of Katie. I know my apologies will never be enough and will always appear empty, but do know that they exist. Do know that there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t think of your suffering and wish I could ease it away.

I hope to hear from you soon.

If not, I understand and send blessings your way.

-Marie Clause

“This is bu-bullshit,” I hissed. “How dare she even write to you! How dare she reach out!” I hollered, my blood boiling. I was livid at her words, at her apologies. The nerve she had to actually walk up to my mother’s mailbox and leave that kind of message for her—it enraged me.

“Calm down, son,” TJ urged.

“No.” I paced back and forth, my hands forming fists. “We should report this. We should let the cops know that these people, these monsters are crossing lines. They are going to pay for this. They aren’t allowed to—”

“Her husband committed suicide, and her other son moved away, Elliott. It’s not they, it’s only her,” Mom interjected.

“But still, she had no right to—”

“I’m meeting with him.”

My heart snapped in half as I turned to face her. “What?”

She had tears rolling down her cheeks, and her body shook as TJ comforted her. “I’m meeting with him. I’ve already decided, Eli. I just called you over to see if you wanted to come with me.”

“You’re…you…” My mind was jumbled, and words wouldn’t leave my mouth. She was talking insane. She was playing with the devil, the same devil who had taken away my sister—her daughter. “You can’t.”

“I am.”

“Eli…” Jasmine started, standing up to walk toward me, but I tossed my hand up to warn her back.

My eyes peered into Mom’s and I shook my head. “How could you do this?” I asked, baffled by her choices. We owed these people nothing. They had taken from us, not the other way around. “You’re making the bi-biggest mistake of your life.”

I marched out the front door, and it didn’t take long for Jasmine to race after me and grab my arm. “Eli, wait!” she said, grabbing my arm.

I tensed up at her touch and couldn’t look her way. No. She’d try to make me understand. She’d try to break through to me. “Jasmine?” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“Let me go.”

“No, Elliott. I won’t. I can’t. Let’s go talk to her. Let’s—”

“Jasmine!” I shouted this time, my blood boiling inside of me. I turned her way, and her eyes were wide with worry. “Let. Me. Go.”

She slowly released her hold on my arm, and I stormed off, not looking back her way.

If I saw her, I would beg her to follow me, to help me escape my mind. I would ask her to make me understand.

But in that moment, I didn’t want to understand. In that moment all I wanted to do was escape reality.