Grandma gave us a long, hard look, then
threw the note down.
Before anyone could react, she threw open
the window and jumped.
Blood splattered, and Grandma’s body landed
next to Lily’s.
And her face?
She had the same twisted, upward curve of a
smile on her lips.
After Grandma died, Dad, his hands shaking, picked up Lily’s note.
After reading it, his face went white as a
ghost.
Then, he shoved the paper in his pocket,
refusing to show it to anyone.
No matter how the cops pushed him, Dad
clammed up.
After we got through Lily’s and Grandma’s
funerals, we dragged ourselves home,
exhausted.
Mom, her eyes swollen and red, asked, her
voice hoarse from crying, “What did Lily
write? Why did your mom kill herself after
reading it?”
Dad just stared ahead, finishing his cigarette.
He looked like he aged fifty years.
“Don’t ask about it. Just forget it ever
happened.”
“From now on, no one mentions Lily.”
Mom was almost out of tears, but she still
choked out the words.
“Lily was my daughter too! Don’t I have the
right to know what her last words were?”
“Tom, Lily will hate you for this!”
I thought Dad was going too far.
“Dad, we’re her family. We deserve to know what Lily wanted to say.”
“Besides, why would Grandma…‘
My words were cut off by Dad, sharp and
hard.
He punched the wall, his eyes bloodshot, his
voice rough.
“I said, the note doesn’t say anything. You
don’t need to know.”
“As for your grandma…”
Mentioning his dead mother, Dad’s voice
cracked. He was clearly hurting, too.
But then, he seemed to realize something and
closed his eyes.
“Your grandma… she was old, senile.”
“Maybe Lily’s death was too much. She didn’t
want to live anymore.”
“Just drop it, all of you. That’s final!”
Dad turned around and stormed into his
room, refusing to mention Lily’s name again.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about that note. I
had to know what Lily wrote.
Mom felt the same way.
Three days later, Dad got completely
hammered, passed out on the bed.