"Angelie is dead," Tom's voice whispered over the phone.
"What? What do you mean? How can she be dead?" J.D. was in shock at Tom's words. Angelie couldn't be dead, but then Tom wouldn't lie to her. Not about this.
"They found her in her room," Tom's voice was quiet. "They think she took something and overdosed. That maybe," he choked, sounding on the verge of tears. "That maybe she killed herself."
J.D. almost dropped the phone. Her stomach clenched. Her whole body almost fell apart as it hit her. "No," was all she could say.
"I'm coming over there right now, okay? I'll be there in a few. I'm so sorry, babe. I love you," Tom hung up the phone.
J.D. did the same. She got up and walked downstairs. She choked back tears, she didn't want Sandra or Martin to see her upset, didn't want them to know.
"Who was that on the phone, dear?" came a voice from the living room.
"Just Tom. He's coming over. Is that alright? Something happened," J.D.'s voice was so much weaker, more broken then she'd intended.
"Sure. What happened? Are you okay?" she heard Sandra getting up from her chair.
"No, don't get up. Just stay there. I just need to talk to Tom right now." J.D. headed outside.
She walked across the backyard, to the cushioned swing. It was her spot, the place she went when she needed to think or be comforted. Tom would know to look for her here first.
She curled herself into a ball on the swing and finally let out the tears. Soon it became a wailing sob, a pitiful heartbreaking sound. She was so wrapped up in her grief that she didn't hear the leaves crunch as Tom came running to her.
He fell to his knees on the grass. He grabbed J.D. pulling her into his arms. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her ear as he began to cry.
Their tears mingled on their cheeks, falling like rain.