As Good As Dead (A Good Girl's Guide to Murder, #3)

by Holly Jackson

She still spoke to Ravi every day. Not the real one—the one who lived in her head. She spoke to him when she was scared or unsure, asked him what he would do if he were there. He sat beside her when she was lonely, and she was always lonely, looking at old photos on her phone. He told her goodnight and kept her company in the dark while she learned how to sleep again. Pip wasn’t sure anymore if she was getting the timbre of his voice quite right, the exact way he had leaned into his words, whether they lilted or tilted. How had he said “Sarge” again? Had his voice dipped up or dipped down? She had to remember, she had to hold on, preserve him. She thought about Ravi every day, almost every moment of every day, eighty-nine days full of moments. What he was thinking, what he was doing, whether he’d like the sandwich she’d just eaten—the answer was always yes—whether he was OK, whether he missed her as much as she missed him. Whether that absence had grown into resentment.