“Why?”
“I can’t explain right now.”
I felt every head in the room turn toward us. “So you came here to wreck my night for fun?”
“I can’t explain right now.”
Claire reached for my wrist. “Please listen to me…”
I pulled my arm away. “You’re jealous. You can’t stand that I have something good.”
That landed. I saw it land.
Claire’s eyes filled. “I am trying to keep you from making a mistake, Ally.”
“Then say what you mean.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”
I pointed toward the door. “Then leave.”
She did. And that was the last thing I ever said to my sister while she was still alive to answer me.
“I am trying to keep you from making a mistake, Ally.”
***
My wedding day dawned bright at first.
The church smelled of lilies and wax. Ryan stood waiting for me at the altar, calm and steady. Afterward, everyone drove downtown to the restaurant for the reception.
I kept glancing at the entrance, but Claire never appeared. I called her, but it went straight to voicemail.
My father said she was upset and would come around. My mother told me not to let her spoil my day. So I smiled at cousins and thanked people for gifts and pretended my stomach wasn’t folding in on itself.
An hour passed. Then my mother’s phone rang.
Mom listened, then went pale and pressed her hand to her mouth. “There was a crash,” she whispered.
I kept glancing at the entrance, but Claire never appeared.
For one second, nobody in the room seemed to know how to move. Then chairs scraped, keys were grabbed, and we were all rushing for the cars before the call had even fully ended.
Rain had started on the drive. Heavy, slanting rain that turned headlights into smears.
The rescue crew was still searching when we got there. Flashlights swept across the riverbank. My dress hem soaked through with mud.
Claire had taken a different road, a shortcut by the river. Her car had gone off the side and into the water.
The next day they found her body, and then there was a funeral instead of a honeymoon. Black dresses. Casseroles on the counters. People saying, “She knew you loved her,” with that awful soft certainty people use when they have nothing useful to offer.
The rescue crew was still searching when we got there.
And through all of it, one thought kept pressing at the back of my mind.
Claire had tried to tell me something.
***
A week later, Ryan left for work. Twenty minutes after he drove away, my phone rang.
“Megan?” I said, surprised.
Megan was Claire’s closest friend at the office, the woman I’d met twice and liked immediately because she talked to Claire without flinching.
Her voice was strained. “Alice, I need you to come to the office right now.”
“Why?”
Claire had tried to tell me something.
“She left a phone for you. And a note. They were on my desk. I just got back this morning from visiting my sick grandpa and found them. Come immediately!”
I didn’t call Ryan. I grabbed my keys and drove 45 miles to the city with my heart pounding so hard it made my fingers shake on the wheel.
Megan was waiting by reception, pale and twisting her hands. She led me to her desk without small talk.
There was an envelope with my name in Claire’s handwriting. Next to it sat her phone. I thought it was gone with the car. I’d pictured it lying at the bottom of the river with all the words she never got to say.
Megan whispered, “The security guard said she was in a rush that day and must’ve left these behind.”
