Colt walked to the envelope, feeling a bit of Ryan’s pain. Whatever was inside could easily grow teeth and bite him.

There was nothing written on the front, the back was clasped but not sealed. Amy was long past keeping any secrets. Colt opened the clasp and slid the papers out from inside, bent his head and read Amy Harris’s suicide note:

Colt,

This is too late, I know, way too late. But I want you to know I’m sorry. I should have said it years ago but I didn’t and you deserve to know why. You deserve to know everything.

I don’t know how much you do know, or you remember, but I think it’s not much from what I’ve heard and because, even after, when you saw me, you’d still smile at me. But this will explain things, I hope.

It was me who tore you and Feb apart. Me and Denny.

I didn’t mean to be a part of it. I didn’t even know I was. But, in the end, I had to be.

Denny knew I liked you. I told him a long time ago. A high school crush. We were good friends, Denny and I. I talked about you, he talked about Feb. He liked her a whole lot. Said she was special and they had a special friendship but it was secret. You couldn’t know or, he said that Feb told him, you’d be angry. Now, I don’t think this was true, but then I believed him.

It happened after that, though. You’d graduated from Purdue and we were all pretty much waiting for you two to get married. But Denny came home from Northwestern and talked to me and told me Feb had told him that things weren’t going too good between you two. Feb was going to break up with you and it would soon be over. I guess I wasn’t over my crush on you, in the end, the way things turned out. I guess that’s why I did what I did. I keep trying to figure it out and that’s what I’ve come up with.

Denny talked me into going to that party at the Eisenhowers. Do you remember it? I’m sure you do. Denny told me to “live a little”. Normally, I wouldn’t go but when I talked to Emily, she said it would be fun. She was always trying to get me to go out. So, we went.

I wish, Colt, so much over the years, you have to know, I wish I hadn’t.

I saw you there, you and Feb, and it didn’t seem Denny knew what he was talking about. You two seemed fine to me, like normal, like always.

Later that night, Denny brought me a drink, said I needed to “loosen up”. I wasn’t much of a drinker, never was. It hit me, what he brought me, real fast. I thought it was just a beer but I don’t think it was. I couldn’t know for sure, but, at the time, I just thought I was a lightweight, getting drunk on a few sips of beer.

Denny saw me going funny and told Emily he’d take care of me. What a laugh. Denny taking care of me. But I didn’t know then and neither did Emily. We both thought he was my friend. Some friend.

He took me upstairs and said I should just lie down for awhile. I don’t remember it all, bits here and there, I felt so strange, like I wasn’t me. I thought he was being nice, taking care of me, a good friend. Friends don’t do what he did to me. They don’t. But I wouldn’t know that until later, when I learned Denny was not my friend at all.

At first, I didn’t even know you were in the bed he put me in. And Colt, I swear, I promise and I swear, I don’t know how it started. But, I think I started it. I wasn’t thinking, I don’t know what I was doing. I just started kissing you. You were there and you were Colt and I think I started kissing you. I was so drunk or whatever, it’s all so fuzzy, you didn’t kiss me back, or you did, I don’t know. It didn’t hit me until later that you weren’t acting like you, you were acting like me. Like you were drunk or whatever. This is terrible and embarrassing but you have to know because I think I took advantage of you. We were moving around and somehow I got you on top of me and I liked it. I’m sorry, but I liked it, it’s just the truth and you deserve to know the truth.

That’s when Feb walked in.

I knew Denny was lying when I saw the look on her face. It was like she just learned someone she’d loved had died. Even being messed up, I’ll never forget the look on her face.

Before I could say anything, she was gone and you were on top of me and I couldn’t get you off. You’d passed out and you were so big, so heavy, I couldn’t move you.

Then Denny was there, in the room, and I know he was in the room the whole time. He saw the whole thing. He was laughing, thought it was funny. I was trying to think straight, get you off me, get to Feb. I asked him to help me but he just kept laughing, saying, “Now it’s over. Now it’s over.” He said it again and again. He sounded so happy. I knew he wasn’t right then. I knew it. Really not right. But I didn’t see it, couldn’t think straight. Not until later, what he did to me and then, a lot later, what he did to Angie.

I got you off and I couldn’t get untangled from the sheets, I was so muddled, and I just gave up and started crying. Craig was there then and he was so mad at Denny and I was lucky, for once, because Craig took care of me. He took care of you and me.

That was hard but this is harder because you have to know why I didn’t say anything. Why I didn’t tell you or Feb what happened.

The next day, my folks went to church and Denny came over. I felt sick, from what happened and from whatever he gave me and trying to figure out what I’d say to you and Feb. That’s why I didn’t go to church with them. But, even if I wasn’t like that, I still couldn’t have fought him. I did fight him, but I didn’t win.

He hurt me, Colt. Right in the living room of my own home. He told me I couldn’t tell you or Feb what happened. “Don’t you fucking open your mouth,” he said. I’ll never forget it, those words, the way he said them. He wasn’t a Denny I knew. But I told him I was going to tell you and he got mean, then meaner, then he hurt me, Colt. In the worst way. The very worst way.

Colt pulled in breath then sat down in a chair.

He didn’t violate Amy and he didn’t have a son.

He’d been right. Denny had raped her.

The first didn’t make him feel better because he now knew the last.

He ran his fingers through his hair and then curved them around the back of his neck, squeezing tight, his eyes closed, the papers in his hand, Amy’s words, written in pretty, neat handwriting. He wondered how many times she wrote and rewrote them. Or if she just poured it out and sent it to her parents. The writing was too neat and he knew she’d practiced.

He bit his lip and pulled in another breath before he opened his eyes, slid the first sheet, which he’d read front and back, behind the other and started on the next page.

He left me and told me there was more of that if I opened my mouth. He knew, when I came up pregnant, that he did that to me. He sent me a note, put it in my mailbox and all it said was “Keep your mouth shut.” I kept it and gave it to Mom and Dad with this letter. I don’t know if it helps at all, but I’ll ask them to give it you.

Colt, I didn’t want that to happen to me again. That’s why I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until he hurt Angie, put her behind the bar, that I knew I had to do what was right. Don’t ask me how I knew it was him, just that, I did.

But I went to the bar and I couldn’t. The way Feb looked at me. I knew what she thought. And I couldn’t hurt either of you anymore than I already did. And I didn’t want him to hurt me.

So, by the time you get this, I will have made it so he can’t hurt me but you’ll know.

You can show this to Feb, I don’t mind. Promise. You were sweet together and I like the idea that maybe I did a little something to make it all right between you two again. I’m just sorry I left it so late, too late for Angie but maybe not too late for you and Feb.

Please don’t hate me, Colt. I couldn’t stand that. I promise, I wanted to do right.

And look into Denny. I can’t say I know that he did that to Angie except that I do. If he could do that to me, to you and to Feb, he could do that to Angie. He just could, Colt, trust me.

And one more thing and I’m sorry for this because I’m asking a favor I don’t deserve to ask. But I had to do it, to protect him and I know you’re a good man and you might not want to protect me but I figure you’ll want to protect him.

I lied on the birth certificate. I said the father was Craig. I thought, if my boy ever came looking, that he should have a father he’d want to find, not Denny. If my boy comes looking, you have to talk to Craig. You have to tell him to keep my secret. You have to help protect my boy. I know it’s a lot to ask, of you and of Craig, but I don’t want him knowing, if he ever wants to find out, where he came from. Tell him Craig and me were young, but we were happy and we were in love. We weren’t, but he was a good friend and he’s a good man and every child should think they have a good Dad and they came from love, don’t you think?

My folks know what happened, they got their own letter and I know they’ll stand by me. I just hope you and Craig will too. Will you do that for me? Please?

That’s all there is to tell except to say I’m sorry. Really, so sorry. You don’t know how much.

Amy

Colt read the last line again then again and he knew Amy was wrong. He knew how sorry she was, he’d seen her hanging from her ceiling fan. He knew just how sorry she was for something she fucking didn’t do.

He slid the papers back into the envelope slowly and smoothed the clasp shut. Then he set it on the table and went to the door. He opened it to find the Harrises standing outside, Mrs. Harris holding a paper cup with a cardboard protector, the string from a teabag dangling.

“Would you come back in?” Colt asked.

They nodded and walked in, their eyes on the envelope.

“Please, sit.”

“Are you okay, son?” Mr. Harris asked instead of sitting and Colt looked at him.

“No,” he answered truthfully. “You had a beautiful, kind daughter who is no longer of this world and never did a thing wrong to anyone and definitely not to me but she lived twenty-two years thinking she did. I’m not okay with that.”

Mr. Harris’s body grew taller, his shoulders straightening.

Mrs. Harris’s body grew smaller, her shoulders sagging.

“We aren’t either,” Mrs. Harris whispered and Colt saw the tears trembling in her eyes.

“It helps, though,” Mr. Harris said quietly, “to know you aren’t either.”

“Please, sit,” Colt repeated.

Mrs. Harris didn’t sit, she asked, “Will you tell February?”

Colt nodded. “Yes, I will. Soon as I can.”

“Will she understand?” Mrs. Harris asked, her voice slightly higher, worried.

“She already does,” Colt assured her. “We figured some of it out already. She’s not okay with what was done to Amy either.”

Mrs. Harris nodded, a tear slid down her cheek and she looked to her husband.

“We heard things, since we been back to town,” Mr. Harris said. “Are they going to get him?”

“Yes,” Colt said, knowing he shouldn’t. Anything could happen, you didn’t give assurances you couldn’t stake claim to, but he said it all the same.

Mr. Harris gestured to the envelope. “Amy would want you to use that, if you need to,” he opened his jacket and pulled another envelope out, this one smaller, white, “and this,” Mr. Harris finished, putting the white envelope on top of the yellow one.

“When did you receive these?” Colt asked.

“The day Doc called,” Mr. Harris answered, running an arm around his wife’s waist and pulling her close. “We were out, didn’t open the mail, not until after he called. We thought it could wait until we delivered it to you, face to face.”

Colt nodded. Amy had planned her death precisely and he hated it that those plans were the last thing she carried out in this world. As he nodded, he heard Mrs. Harris’s breath hitch.

“You need us anymore?” Mr. Harris asked, pulling his wife closer, wanting to get out of there.

“No, sir.”

Mr. Harris nodded and led his wife to the door. Colt followed and watched the older man stop at the door then turn.

“Please don’t talk to Craig ‘less you have to.”

Colt nodded.

“She’d want you at her funeral. Will you do that for her?”

Colt didn’t miss a beat. “Feb and I’ll be there.”