Lucy lay in the middle of the room, Alex’s favorite sweater resting under her head as a pillow. She lay with her back to the door.
“Lucy?” Slowly, Matt crossed the room.
Lucy’s arms were outstretched in front of her. She had sliced her wrists. Blood pooled under her body, spreading a black outline, pouring into the boards beneath her.
Matt rounded Lucy’s body. Her eyes were open, staring ahead. In death she looked content, even happy. The knife she’d used to cut her wrists lay by her side.
Matt sat down on the floor next to his wife. He knew she was gone, her broken heart had finally stopped beating. Nine months ago, they had all died in this room. Everything that had come after had been purgatory.
Lucy had died reaching out. One of her hands was half closed. It held a plaster dust hand print. She’d held her boy’s hand as she died. She’d watched Alex as the blood had drained from her body and she’d smiled.
On the edge of the pool of blood, a message had been carved into the wooden floorboards, possibly with the knife that Lucy had used to take her life. It read:
TOGETHER NOW
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