“You’re going to be fine. Life’s going to be great. It’s… It’s going to be great,” Abigail said. She grunted to clear her throat, then said, “I want you to do me a favor.” “What is it?” “Put on your headphones, play our favorite song, then turn around and close your eyes. Sleep, Syd. I want you to sleep and I want to… to listen to music with you.”
She's probably going to kill herself
