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Lily,

I woke up and the last piece of my heart disappeared

I opened o

I sit on the edge of the bathtub and run the fingernail of my thumb up the inside of my wrist I trace a vein until it pitchforks out and disappears under the fleshiest part of my palm Lily couldn’t sleep; a feeeks before she left, she had all these pills to help her do that I didn’t knohy at the ti her up at night When I searched her bedroom earlier, I couldn’t find the on it Her I should know better It just seen for this—that the day I decided to die, everything would go right But they didn’t and now I’m not sure what I’ll do

Three sharp raps on the bathroo I look up from my wrist I didn’t hear his footsteps I never hear the down the hall I wait a fewthe bathroone soaks the air, s it er the closer I get to the kitchen and les with a more bitter scent: burnt toast He burned the toast He only does that when he thinks I deserve it I check my watch

I am five minutes late for breakfast

Early h theabove the sink Everything it touches turns gold Everything looks golden, but it all feels so gray An envelope sits next to ers along the edge of it as my father explains it’s for the school, aboutto tell the around Do I understand? I had the flu

He says, “Let et a look at your face”

I tilt h In one swift motion, he reaches across the table and I flinch away before I can stop myself He exhales ihly toward the light I keep my eyes on the envelope, like I could turn it into a letter fro at it A letter that says, hey, I’ht I used to read the actual note she left ain and I’d pretend those words were coded between the ones that said I’m so sorry and I can’t do this anymore

He lets go of my chin

Things got worse after you left

How it is now: my father’s face, buried in the newspaper My one Two charred pieces of toast set out before ot the butter, left it on the counter next to the fridge I want it badly, but once I’m at the table, I’m not allowed to leave until my plate is clean

Mornings like this, I remember that one and only sleepover at Grace Casper’s house Waking up with her the next day, sca downstairs before ere even dressed The radio blared the news and her mother and father raised their voices over it to be heard They had an entire conversation this way Her brother, Trace, turned the TV on over the radio—it was so ot mad at me for it Grace said she could tell by the look on my face it was different at my place and she asked me what it was like and I lied to her I said it was the sahtly quieter

What it really is is silent except for the clock ticking on the wall, re me I have only three minutes left to eat My father flips to the classifieds Two minutes Past them One minute Folds the paper Time He peers at me and the still uneaten toast

“You better eat that,” he says

The edge in his voice closes ernail and peel it sideways, trying to openmy body with new pain Blood prickles at the corner of my thumb but it doesn’t work, I still can’t s, so I start to pray instead I pray for so to happen so I don’t have to eat this toast because I can’t eat this toast I wasn’t raised to believe in God but Lily is gone and I’ Maybe that counts for so

“But what if—” The words die as soon as they leave my mouth “I’m not…”

He stares at me

“If I’ry…”

“You knoe don’t waste food in this house”

And then, so:

Our front door starts to rattle and shake

My father lowers the paper slightly

“HELP! Help us, please—”