We looked at Adam. His skin had paled, and he was leaning forward with his eyes closed, holding his head in his hands. He was muttering something under his breath. “I’m not crazy. I’m not fucking crazy.”
Trina put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what are you saying? Are you okay?”
Adam opened his eyes. They were glistening with tears. “I’m not crazy,” he repeated, voice cracking with emotion. “This whole time… I thought I was losing my mind.”
“What do you mean?”
He wiped his face. “I thought I was the only one,” he said in a shaky voice.
“You mean you think Lindsay was pushed too?” Trina asked.
He nodded. “I… I think so, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she wasn’t just my sister,” he said. “She was my twin. I knew her better than anyone. So when I got home that night and they told me she’d fallen off the roof, I just…” He trailed off and wiped his face again. “I knew it wasn’t an accidental fall, and I knew it wasn’t something she’d do on purpose either. I kept waiting for the police to find signs of foul play and open a murder investigation. But they never did. They said it was a suicide. Everyone did, but I… I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” Trina asked, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles. “I had no idea.”
“I thought I was going insane. Everyone else seemed to accept that she killed herself right away, like it was so obvious.” Adam picked up a napkin and dabbed at his cheeks and under his eyes. “I didn’t know that Hunter felt the same way as me. He never said anything about it.”
“He tried to tell your dad,” I said. “But he told him he was crazy.”
“Well, I guess that explains why he never mentioned it to me,” he said softly. “He probably thought I’d call him crazy too. So he had no way of knowing I actually felt the exact same way as him.”
“I wish you told me,” Trina said, eyes filling with concern. “I could’ve helped you through it.”
He shook his head slowly, staring into space. “I couldn’t tell you or anyone else,” he muttered.
“Why?”
“You know those people who can’t accept that someone they love is dead?” he said. “And they spend the rest of their lives obsessing over it and coming up with all sorts of crazy conspiracy theories about it?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that was happening to me. I thought I was just stuck in denial and losing my mind. So after a month or two, I tried to accept that it was really a suicide, and I tried to start moving on like everyone else,” he said. He rubbed the side of his head, let out a sigh, and continued. “Even then… I still had a few doubts.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like the note. I assume you know about that.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“When I first heard about it and saw it, I thought it was bullshit. Not because it wasn’t Lindsay’s writing. It was. But the thing is, she had the most basic handwriting on the planet. I used to tease her about it all the time and call it her basic-bitch writing. Just look at this.” He grabbed another napkin and retrieved a pen from his pocket. Then he wrote a few words on the napkin. “This is almost exactly what it looked like. See what I mean?”
I nodded. It was very basic printing. No flourishes or angles.
“Literally anyone who knew Lindsay could’ve emulated her handwriting. Especially in such a short note,” Adam went on. “Even a random person who sat next to her in class one time could probably do it.”
Trina nodded slowly. “That’s true. It would’ve been pretty easy to fake.”
“It’s not just that,” Adam said, shaking his head. He paused and scratched the back of his neck. “This is going to sound ridiculous and morbid as hell. I don’t know if I should even say it.”
“It’s okay,” I said gently. “Take your time.”
He scratched the back of his neck again. “About a month before Lindsay died, we watched a movie together. It was about some aliens who showed up on Earth and started killing or enslaving people. Near the end of it, the main characters were in a totally hopeless situation. They were surrounded, and the aliens were going to capture them. So they decided not to give them the satisfaction of killing them horribly or turning them into slaves. They went out on their own terms by blowing themselves up with a car bomb.”
“Okay. Go on,” Trina said, brows knitting with confusion as Adam paused for a beat.