I stare at the handwriting—the slight slant to the right, the way the ink presses harder in places as if she trembled or hesitated.
 
 I read the words again.
 
 Jason, I’m sorry, but I can’t carry this weight any longer.Losing her shattered me in ways I can’t put into words.I’ve tried to be strong—for you, for us—but the pain is relentless, and I can’t see a way forward.
 
 Please know this isn’t your fault.You gave me everything, but I’ve lost myself in the void she left behind.I hope you find peace someday, even if I couldn’t.
 
 I’ll love you forever.See you on the other side, babe.
 
 Lindsay
 
 My eyes moisten, but I don’t cry.
 
 I stopped crying long ago.I couldn’t cry for my dead wife, and the guilt still plagues me.I cried out all my tears for Julia.
 
 In fact, what I felt was anger.Anger that she couldn’t bring herself to blame me outright, to give in to the rage she felt, to heal.
 
 And anger at that damned psychiatrist, Dr.Morgan, who said she could help us.Said she could help Lindsay.
 
 Oh, God…
 
 If Lindsay didn’t take her own life…perhaps Dr.Morgancouldhave eventually helped her?
 
 What am I doing?What do I hope to find?To prove?
 
 Whatever the real story is, Lindsay is still dead.Our daughter is still dead.
 
 I grip the edge of my desk, my knuckles white.
 
 I was finally beginning to move on.
 
 With the surgery.
 
 With Angie.
 
 But everything has changed.
 
 I won’t let this lie.
 
 I can’t.
 
 ChapterThree
 
 Angie
 
 I don’t see Jason for the rest of the day.
 
 Fear gnaws at me.What did those people want with him?I want to call him or at least text him.
 
 But I don’t.
 
 This morning, I was ready to pack up my life and head to Switzerland with him.
 
 Now?
 
 I still want to.
 
 I want to be with him more than anything.