The soft pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof of the rental car pulled me back to the present.

Here I was, alone, parked at a park my parents and I used to picnic and play at. Although I knew exactly where I was, I was lost. Directionless. Spiraling between my thoughts of the past and present.

I looked down at the CD sleeve in my pale hands.

There would never be another time I would hear their voices again. This was it.

I was terrified.

After so many arguments, we had fallen into silence.

And although the meeting with Charles proved they intended to preserve some sort of connection with me, I didn't know what it was.

And they would never know much I regretted our last words.

With shaking hands, I removed the disc from the thin sleeve and pushed it into the CD slot. I closed my eyes and hugged my arms against my chest.

I don't have the words to describe the feeling as I heard the recording begin and my father's voice filled the air around me.

"Hello, Grace. It may have been a while. As you know, in my line of work, we've seen several sudden passings."

He took a deep breath before continuing on.

"I hope you don't have to hear this any time soon. But your mother and I needed to be prepared."

I could hear the dread in his words. And my closed eyes grew watery.

My mother chimed in and my heart dropped. I couldn't remember ever hearing her so pained.

"We love you, Gracie. No matter how much distance or space. We may not always agree with the path you take or who you become, but you are our daughter. We want only the best for you." She stopped into a half-sob and I could hear my father pat her shoulder.

"We've spoken with Charles at length," my father continued on. "You are our only living family left. And while we don't agree on most things lately, we know you have a good head on your shoulders." He sighed and my mother sniffled in the background. "We love you. We trust you."

My eyes could no longer hold back my tears. I bit the side of my cheek out of desperation. Maybe this physical pain would pull me out of this awful dream I fell into.

But I was still here. And the CD continued on.

"Whether you decide to sell it all, or move back and build a life here, we know you'll make the right choice." My mother took a ragged breath and I heard my father shush her soothingly. She cleared her throat before continuing on.

"Please be happy, Gracie... We want nothing more than that. "I hope we can tell this to you in person soon. It feels like a part of us is missing with you gone."

That punched all of the air out of my chest.

I wasn't proud of what had happened between us. But I wasn't ready for the immense guilt and pain hanging on to each of their words.

"If you are still with Logan..." My father resumed tentatively. "I want him to take care of you. Please apologize to him for us."

Apologize?

I shook my head in disgust.

They were right all along. For not trusting them. For being skeptical of his intentions. For being honest with me when I was being stubborn.

All of it.

And I let him drive a wedge between us that could only be overcome by death.

I was sickened by myself.

"That's...uh, all we wanted to say..." My father drifted off awkwardly. I heard the shifting of his and mother's bodies to hold each other in their sorrow.

I kept listening for more.

But nothing came.

And I was left with the same disbelief and desperation as that phone call barely a week ago.

I was seated at my office desk, scanning through all the documents my paralegal prepared for my next meeting.

I reached for my vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso on the right side of my desk - but stopped short of my cell phone right before it.

The illuminated screen brought up an unknown number from my childhood area code. My first instinct was that it was a scam caller. But those tended to call from Salt Lake City lately.

My hand hovered over the screen for a moment before I grasped it and set the phone to my ear.

"Hello, this is Grace," I answered with the same office-friendly tone I gave all my clients.

"Grace Reeve?" An unknown masculine voice inquired.

"Yes," I answered curtly, regretting answering the call. "Look, I'm not interested in whatever student loan forgiveness scheme this is-"

"No, no - no scheme. I'm calling from the emergency department at St. Mary's outside of Seattle."

St. Mary's? I hadn't heard that hospital name in ages.

My dad used to wake up at all times of the night to coordinate death certificates with the physicians there.

And deliver the news to their families.

"I'm calling regarding your parents, Stephen and Elizabeth."

"What?"

I don't remember what happened in the minutes after that.

But according to my secretary, I fainted.