I realize there's something incredibly honest about trees in winter, they're experts at letting go. (Jeff McDaniel)

I sat down with them in the church where her viewing was taking place.

“You knew her best at the end,” her mother said. “Tell us what she was like?”

I used to think I was strong but I couldn't croak a word out to those nice people. I put my head in my hands and let the water drain my heart. Tears were running down my arms. They held me, me, their daughter's murderer. The three of us cried. I guess I was the closest thing they had to her because I could give them her ending and they needed closure more than anything.

“Would you say a couple words at the ceremony?” her father asked as I sat across from him, my face drenched with tears and snot, that's right, snot, it wasn't a pretty scene.

I considered it my duty to Miami, whose actual name was Eunice. I do not blame her in the least for changing it.

I took the drugs I needed to get me up there in a somewhat coherent state. I didn't want to say any of the stupid stuff: she was great girl, she loved life, yada yada yada.

“She was stubborn,” I started and everyone laughed. “She told me what she thought even when she knew it wasn't what I wanted to hear. She was the best person on my team.” I called it team rather than entourage, I thought that was a nice touch. “I trusted her. I loved her. I don't know what I'll do without her.” All that was true. I didn't know that I loved her until she died, but I did, I definitely did love her. It hurt that she was gone and it killed me to know that I was responsible.

I didn't know what I would do now, not just without Miami, losing her alone would have been manageable, but losing everything had me all twisted up.