The paper feels heavier once it is in my hands.
Damian hesitates before giving it to me. I see the calculation flicker across his face. Protection versus truth. He always lands on truth with me, even when it hurts.
I wish he had not this time.
The note is short. Neat. Written like someone had all the time in the world.
She comes with me. Or you bury her.
My vision blurs before I finish the sentence. I read it again anyway, like repetition might soften it. Like the words will rearrange themselves into something survivable.
They do not.
My knees buckle without warning. One second I am standing. The next, the floor rushes up and everything inside me gives out at once. There is no dignity in it. No slow collapse. Just failure. I barely feel the impact before Damian is there, catching me
