A Will to Kill

My younger sister, Ivy White, died the day before the new semester started.

She jumped from the 16th floor of Redwood Heights, where our family lived.

She didn't bleed much, her head twisted to one side. Her body was curled in a pool of blood.

It was eerie that her face wore a smile.

When people saw the expression on Ivy's face, they all gasped.

She was so young, yet her smile looked unnaturally sinister and cruel.

It gave everyone goosebumps.

My mother, Linda Madison, broke down and cried. My father, David White, who had stood tall all his life, suddenly slumped. He silently smoked one cigarette after another.

The police comforted us while following procedures. "If there's a suicide note, we can close this as a suicide."

So, all of us began searching Ivy's room, trying to find a note.

My grandmother, Martha Haggard, was the first to discover it.

There was only one sentence in that note.

Martha held the paper in her hand, looking stunned. Then, she suddenly cried out, "Ivy... Oh, Ivy..."

Her reaction confused us. David stepped forward and urged her. "Mom, what was Ivy's final message?"

Martha gave us a long look. Then, she dropped the paper without hesitation.

Before anyone could react, she opened the window and jumped out.

Blood splattered everywhere. Martha's body lay next to Ivy's.

Martha's expression also had a faint smile.

After Martha died, David picked up Ivy's note with trembling hands.

When he finished reading, his face instantly turned pale.

After that, he hid the paper in his pocket and refused to show it to anyone.

No matter how the police asked, David stayed silent.

When Ivy and Martha's funeral was over, we returned home exhausted.

Linda's eyes were red and swollen. She cried as she asked, "What was Ivy's final message? Why did your mother kill herself after reading it?"

David stayed quiet. He finished his last drag of a cigarette. He looked like he'd aged decades.

"Stop asking. From now on, pretend this never happened, and no one is allowed to mention Ivy."

Linda had nearly run out of tears to cry. Her voice was hoarse, yet she questioned him again. "Ivy was my daughter, too! Am I not allowed to know what she left behind?

"David, if you act like this, Ivy will hate you!"

I also thought my father was going too far.

"Dad, no matter what, we are her family. We have the right to know Ivy's last words. Besides, Grandma jumped to her death right after reading them..."

I was full of confusion.

However, before I could finish, David cut me off harshly.

He slammed his fist into the wall with bloodshot eyes. He said firmly, "I already said that note didn't say anything. You don't need to know. As for your grandma..."