Chapter 3: A Haunting Farewell

The next day, the sun was already high when I woke up. A wailing cry yanked me out of my dreams.

The sound was sharp and raw, echoing through the apartment. I jolted upright, heart racing, unsure if I was still dreaming.

It sounded like Jesse’s dad crying.

The sobs were loud, unrestrained, the kind of grief that can’t be contained. I scrambled out of bed, pulling on yesterday’s jeans, and hurried toward the living room.

I threw on clothes and stepped out.

The hallway was flooded with sunlight, but it did nothing to chase away the chill in the air. I could hear voices—low, urgent—coming from the living room.

In the living room, the two officers from before were there, and Jesse’s dad was on the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably.

He was hunched over, face buried in his hands. The officers stood nearby, their faces solemn. One of them caught my eye and shook his head, just barely.

My heart sank—this couldn’t be good news.

I braced myself, my stomach twisting. I already knew what they were going to say, but I didn’t want to hear it.

Sure enough, the officers told me that Jesse had been found dead. Apparently, his body had been floating in the river for days before someone out fishing discovered it that morning.

The words hit me like a sledgehammer. I swayed, grabbing the back of a chair for support. The room seemed to tilt, the colors draining away.

According to the coroner, the time of death was the night of Valentine’s Day.

The same night we’d gotten drunk together. The same night he’d smiled at me like it was the last time.

There were no other injuries on him, so they ruled it a likely suicide.

The officer’s voice was gentle, but the words were blunt. There was no easy way to say it. I felt my own eyes sting, tears threatening to spill over.

Hearing that Jesse had died that night, a chill ran through me. If he died on the 14th, who sent me those messages? Was it really just my imagination?

I replayed the messages in my mind, over and over. Was it some kind of glitch? A delayed send? Or was I just losing it?

But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Jesse and I hadn’t been that close, but we’d been roommates for a long time, and he was so young. I couldn’t help but feel grief.

I remembered all the late nights, the shared jokes, the arguments over whose turn it was to take out the trash. I hadn’t realized how much he meant to me until now.

But I knew Jesse’s dad must have been suffering ten times more. Just as I was about to comfort him, the officer suddenly turned serious and said:

I wasn’t ready for what came next.