My mind jumps from one possibility to another. New thoughts bounce up and down and over each other, but I can’t make sense of them. Two coffee cups. A bag of bagels. Food for two. Not one. Someone had been in the room with my sister. This is logic. But it was Sylvia who bought the sleeping pills and Sylvia who packed them in her suitcase. I’m struggling with these two seemingly inconsistent truths. I put on my reporter hat and push aside my heartache. Sylvia took those pills. Logic. It’s the only explanation. And yet, someone else was there. Maybe.
