VALERIE, THE GUN under her chin.
Don’t come any closer, she says.
What are you doing? Don’t—put the gun down, honey. Please, please put it away—
She’s gone, isn’t she? You wouldn’t be here in the middle of the day—you wouldn’t have left the hosp—
Yes, she’s gone. She just passed.
And I wasn’t there.
Give me the gun, Valerie. Give it to me.
I can’t do this anymore.
Yes, you can. You know what you can do? You can help me plan the funeral. So we can honor her, together. That’s what we’re supposed to do.
I…can’t.
Yes, you can. Give me the gun.
Don’t—don’t come any closer.
Give me the gun, Valerie. We’ll work through this together. I promise. Just—
What are you—no, don’t come any—
Give it to me!
“No.” I pop off the bed, fall to the carpet. Pull the comforter off the bed and wrap it around me, trying to contain an uncontrollable shiver, the fog of the dream fading.
No. That’s not what happened. I wasn’t there.
No; they killed you, Valerie. They killed you.
They killed you, and I’m gonna prove it.