Page 89 of Mic Drop

I can do no more than point to the photo. I don’t want to shed anymore tears, yet I feel the all too familiar pricking at the back of my eyeballs.

She picks up the picture, letting it drop onto the desk. “Oh, sweetie.”

I turn tearful eyes up to my sister. “Why?” Three little letters packed with so much punch. Why did Darren have to overdose?Why did Bennett barrel into my life? Why did we go through with the farce of our marriage?

Her arms go around me. “You’ve really had it rough.”

“I miss Ma.” A tear overflows. “And Darren.”

“Bennett’s a good man. Where is he? He should be here with you.”

I rest my forehead on her shoulder. “We’re getting a divorce.”

Kara stiffens, then steps back, her hands on my shoulders. “Excuse me?”

I gather myself. “We got married because Ma was dying and we wanted to give her a happy memory. Now she’s gone, there’s no reason for us to stay together.”

“That would be all well and good,” my sister replies. “Except for the inconvenient fact that you love each other.” When I remain silent, she continues, “Don’t forget. I’ve seen you two together. The way he looks at you, and you at him. How he sang at Ma’s graveside. He didn’t do that to make her happy. He did it to makeyouhappy.”

In a feeble voice, I say, “He was playing a part.”

“I don’t believe you,” her head shakes. “You don’t believe you.”

“I have the divorce papers to prove it.”

“Until they’re filed, there’s still time to come to your senses.” She looks down. “What are you going to do with these pictures?”

At least my sister’s efficiency is returning. I glance at the photos. “I don’t think I can throw them away.”

“Then put them in the ‘keep’ file, and let’s get moving.” She walks toward the filing cabinet. I stack the photos into an orderly pile with Ma’s passport, and return to the desk. There will be plenty of time to cry over them later.

The rest of Ma’s desk isn’t as heart-wrenching, so I make pretty quick work of the remaining drawers. I open the last one, holding a bunch of random papers, with two fancy envelopes on top. I pick them up. One’s addressed to Kara. The other, to me.

“Kara,” I whisper.

“Found something?”

I hold up the envelope with her name scrawled across it. “I think Ma left us each a final note.”

She crosses the room. We both stare at the envelopes as if they’re going to get up and dance. After a moment, I pass hers to her and stare down at mine.

She asks, “Are you going to open yours?”

“I’ll read it soon. You?”

“I’m almost done with the filing cabinet. I think I’ll finish it and call it a day. I want to be with my husband when I read this.”

I nod. Who do I have to hold my hand when I read Ma’s final words to me? Not Kara, clearly—although I don’t blame her for wanting to be with her family. Court pops into my mind, but I dismiss her. She’s had enough to deal with about the whole Black Widow/Prostitution Ring debacle. Bennett’s face comes into focus in the picture with Darren, but I dismiss him as well. After all, we’re getting a divorce.

“Let’s finish up.”

An hour later, both the desk and filing cabinet are cleared, with the important documents set aside. Kara brushes her hands. “I think we did a lot today. Thanks for the help.”

“We have to stick together. Four hands are better than two.”

“Hashtag true. Are you going to be okay alone with Ma’s letter?”

“I’ll be fine. Go home to your family. We should meet up here to keep going through Ma’s house soon.”

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