Page 27 of Healed Heart

“Why would they?No charges were filed.It was ruled a suicide.It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.Dead kid, devastated mother, suicide note at the scene.I would have been the only likely suspect, and I had an alibi.I was at work.”

“Doing what?”

His face reddens.“I may not be able to do surgery, but I’m still a damned doctor, Angie.”

He’s flustered, and I don’t blame him.

Still, though…

He stands up, paces.“I was meeting with the dean of the medical school.We were discussing a few courses I could teach.Lindsay hadn’t been back to work since Julia’s death, and there was no end in sight to her depression.One of us had to work.”

I don’t want to ask about any life insurance they had on Julia.But Jason did just say he was debt free.Did he really have to work that close to his daughter’s death?

Or was he trying to escape?

I can’t blame him if that was the case.

He hands me the envelope, his fingers trembling.I take it from him gently, open the flap, and pull out a single sheet of stationery.There’s a faint scent to it, lingering like the ghost of a memory.

The handwriting on the page is a delicate scrawl, neat and androgynous.The words are heartbreaking.

Jason, I’m sorry, but I can’t carry this weight any longer.Losing her shattered me in ways I can’t put into words.I’ve tried to be strong—for you, for us—but the pain is relentless, and I can’t see a way forward.

Please know this isn’t your fault.You gave me everything, but I’ve lost myself in the void she left behind.I hope you find peace someday, even if I couldn’t.

I’ll love you forever.See you on the other side, babe.

Lindsay

I feel a lump in my throat, a burning sensation behind my eyes.I didn’t know Lindsay, but I feel her despair.

But…something is nibbling at the back of my neck.

Something about thisdoesseem fabricated.I take a closer look.

“Are you okay?”Jason asks.

I nod, unable to trust my voice.

The handwriting on the suicide note is neater.Too neat.No personality, no little quirks.Just line after line of careful, practiced strokes.

“There’s no…flourish,” I say.“No heartbeat in it.”I point to the diary entry.“Lindsay’s letters have this wild loop, like here—see theyinactually?That long, curly tail?She did that with herg’s too.Like inforget.They swoop.Like rollercoasters.As opposed to this.”I gesture to the note.“They’s end in short little hooks, almost like someone’s trying not to take up too much space.And the spacing—Lindsay’s words are close together, almost messy.But on the note, the words are evenly spaced, almost mathematically.Too perfect.Except the slight slant.And the way the lines curl up toward the end of each sentence.”

Jason’s jaw tightens.“But what if a detective says that maybe she just wrote differently because she was upset?”

I bite my lip.“They could try to make that argument.But you don’t justbecomesomeone else, change your handwriting, even in your darkest moments.”I return to the diary.“Look at thei’s, too.Lindsay dotted them high.And sometimes with little circles.Quirky.Playful.But here?”I slide a finger over the note.“Tiny dots.Always perfectly centered.Like it came out of a textbook.”

Jason doesn’t respond, but his shoulders tense, and he clenches his hands into fists.

“And look at how she wrote your name.”I lean in.“In the diary, she writesJasonwith a tilt.TheJcurves forward, like she’s leaning into it.Like she’s a little girl doodlingMrs.Jason Lansingin a loopy script.But in the note, theJstands straight up.Like a stranger wrote it.”

Jason grabs the note.“I’m sorry, but I can’t carry this weight…” His voice cracks.“She never talked like that.”

“Exactly,” I say.“Even the tone is off.It’s too measured.I didn’t know Lindsay, of course, but it’s clear that she was full of life.In the diary, she talks about your eyes beinglike the velvet lining of a jewelry box.”I grin at that.“An accurate description, by the way.But Jason, the woman who wrote this is someone who feels things.Who burns a little too bright.”I take a deep breath in.“If I’m being honest, the note doesn’t sound like someone falling apart.It sounds like someone pretending to.”

Jason bows his head and covers his eyes with one hand.The note slips from his fingers and flutters to the floor.

But I don’t bend down to pick it up.I just place my hand on his shoulder, rub it gently.