After all that had happened, my mind has finally collapsed under its own weight. Even though, I didn't see his face I knew. I just knew.
Believe you me; I didn't want to even begin to think it was Toby. But the truth hurts more than you could possibly imagine, and this was the truth. The girls won't understand; they never do. No one knows what it's like to be "perfect, little Spencer Hastings".
That's why I said I was a Jane Doe. If I believed hard enough, it might become true. Maybe the harsh reality of life would just slip away and I could live happily ever after, like in Cinderella. But my Prince Charming was gone. And he could never come back. Not in a million years.
What should I have done differently? If I had never looked in the drawer, would Toby still be alive? Would he still be curled up next to me, watching our favorite movies? Would he still kiss me goodnight and tell me that he loved me even though it was a lie? I don't want to think about it.
Because I might have not killed Toby, but I was the reason he was dead.