She's asleep. That's why everything is dark. Light comes on suddenly, a door opening above her. People move and murmur just outside her vision. She calls out, but finds she can't move. Every part of her is asleep, numb, paralyzed, and she realizes she's dead. The mortician discusses football while sewing her lips shut. No, she tries to scream, I'm alive, I'm fine, but her lips remain still. She screams, and no one hears her.

Her viewing begins. Jake comes, face frozen with grief, with their young son. The boy uncaps a black marker and leans in close, but Jake stops him and squats. "What are you doing?" he whispers.

"I'm writing that I love her so she doesn't forget." Fighting back tears, Jake doesn't stop him. The priest finishes the reading, and the rest passes quickly, and she's being lowered into the ground. She screams unheeded as dirt rains down on her.

She wakes up gasping for breath, pulse racing and Jake asleep beside her. In the bathroom, she splashes water on her face and flips on the light to reassure herself of what is real.

Someone has written, "I love you, mommy," in black marker on her arm.