Tell Me You're Sorry Read Online Free PDF Page A

grabbed the phone, I gather you’re in the airport between flights. Can’t be much of a holiday for you, huh?”
    â€œNo, not much,” she admitted. She thought he sounded a bit drunk. Scott always took on a nasally tone whenever he’d had a few drinks.
    â€œListen, Steffi,” he whispered. “I feel crappy about the last time we talked. You had every reason to be pissed off at me. In fact, go ahead with the ‘I told you so.’ I have it coming. You were right, you know. I shouldn’t have married so soon after . . .”
    He fell silent for a moment. Maybe he expected her to say something.
    â€œDon’t get me wrong,” he continued. “Halle’s wonderful. But it’s been a challenge. I constantly test her patience, because I still miss Rebecca. I miss her something fierce. It’s crazy, I know. Anyway, go ahead and say, ‘I told you so.’ ”
    â€œNo, I don’t think I will,” Stephanie murmured. It wouldn’t have given her much satisfaction. And it wouldn’t have brought her sister back.
    â€œI don’t know why I was so hell-bent to marry Halle so quickly,” he said. Stephanie thought she heard ice rattling in a glass—and then him slurping. “Guess I just wanted to feel normal again—and I didn’t want to lose her. She was the first decent thing to happen to me since Rebecca. But like I say, I’m just not over her. As much as I’ve tried, I can’t wrap my head around what she did. It still gnaws away at me.”
    Stephanie found herself nodding over the phone. “Not a day goes by that I don’t ask myself why . . .”
    â€œDid she ever say anything to you about a Father’s Day card?” he asked.
    Stephanie frowned. “What Father’s Day card?”
    â€œNothing, it’s just Father’s Day was that same weekend, and I—well, never mind. If she got some upsetting news that day, she would have called you, right? I mean, you two talked about everything. You two didn’t have any secrets from each other.”
    â€œWell, that’s what I used to think,” Stephanie said. She and Scott had been through all this before. It was actually a relief to know she wasn’t the only one still haunted by what her sister had done.
    â€œWhat did you start to say about Father’s Day?” she asked, her grip tightening on the cell phone. “If you know or suspect something, tell me. I don’t care how far-fetched it seems, any theory you have—any possible explanation—”
    â€œRebecca scribbled something on the bathroom mirror in lipstick,” he said, cutting her off. “I—I wiped it clean before the cops or anyone else could see.”
    â€œWhat?” she whispered. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t said anything about this before. “Becky wrote something on the mirror—you mean, like a suicide note? You’re just telling me this now?”
    There was silence on the other end of the line.
    â€œWhat did she write?”
    More silence.
    â€œScott, for God’s sake, what did it say? Why did you erase it?”
    â€œAll it said was, ‘Hate you,’ ” he muttered. “I’m assuming it was meant for me, but I’m not sure why—or what it means. I couldn’t face anyone asking me about it, especially when I had no idea what the answer was. Whatever, it made me ashamed. So—I—I erased the damn thing.”
    Stephanie numbly stared at the storm outside. She wondered what Scott had done to push Rebecca toward suicide. What was he hiding? Or did he truly not have a clue?
    â€œSteffi, are you there?”
    â€œYes,” she said, straightening in the chair.
    â€œThere was never any problem between Rebecca and me that we couldn’t work out,” he said, his words slurred. “I just don’t get it . . .”
    A beep sounded on the line. Stephanie squinted at