She sighed and sat up on the bed again, pushing herself up against the headboard. "Stop it." she muttered to herself. "He's not dead. He's somewhere. You know he is. Dead people don't write notes." Becky tried to convince herself.
She leaned over to her side table and pulled out the note he'd written her when Amy was born. He was alive. He had to be alive. She just wished he'd come back. She didn't blame him for Robbie's death, she blamed herself.