Two
Tuesday sat in front of her bedroom mirror as though it was her greatest performance to put on. It was, because she had to hold herself together. She was so incredibly close to completely shattering. Tonight was Francis’s viewing, the last time she’d see her friend before the funeral. Everyone would be wearing black—she’d be wearing black. But tonight, for Francis, she’d dress the way her friend would’ve wanted her to.
Hot tears slid down her face, but Tuesday had to stop, not break, for the makeup to go on, for it to stay on. It still didn’t feel real. None of it did.
Francis had gone for her morning jog in the woods before going to meet up with Tuesday. Apparently, she had a heart abnormality—hypertrophic cardiomyopathy—that no one knew about. Not until it was too late, not until
