I visited your grave every day, even though you wouldn’t have wanted me to.

You’d shake back your hair and say, “Gosh, Ava, don’t be so morbid!” And a smile would appear on your lips—a sweet, playful smile. Then you’d roll your eyes and saunter away, trying to flip your hair behind you like all the bitchy girls do at school.

The day Rafe came back to school was no exception. The overwhelming need to be close to you, or where you were buried, drove me to the cemetery in an attempt to ease the knot of anxiety in my chest.

I had the way to your grave memorized from the first time I’d come alone.

Your headstone is the prettiest. It’s made from white marble that reflects the glistening afternoon sun, with golden, curvy letters marking your date of birth and date of death, and the words “You Will Always Be Loved” carved into the marble.

That day, I reached inside my pocket and placed a rose there that I’d taken from someone’s garden on the way. Even though I knew the rose would wither and die in just a few days, seeing it on your headstone made me feel better.

Most days, I didn’t know what else to do. So I talked.

I talked about how things have changed, how much Mom and I miss you, how much I’ve cried when I can’t sleep at night. I told you every small, insignificant detail of my school day—what sort of designer bag Lia had brought with her to school and how unfair it was that I received after-school detention. I wondered aloud what you would have said, how you would have reacted.

I told you how Rafe had come back to see me, about how he had enrolled in Circling Pines High School again. Would you have been happy? Upset? Sad? Confused? And finally, I told you about the plane ticket. About the date that was written there. About how I thought…how I thought that maybe he could have been involved with…

It wasn’t fair. Any of it.

I stood at your grave, actually considering that your best friend might have killed you and wondering why you were the one who had been killed.

Why not me…