I was discharged from the hospital. My parents called, “We’re at the shopping mall preparing for your sister’s birthday.

I said yes.

Because women like me are taught to say that—even when we’re not.

At home, I locked the door, took my medication, and slowly lowered myself onto the couch. Then I stared at the ceiling for a long time.

And then I called the bank.

My life insurance policy had one beneficiary.