Nick has come to say good-bye. It's breaking her heart. He waits there, on the doorstep, like a lost little boy.
"I didn't think you'd come," she says.
"Neither did I."
"Stay for a minute."
He nods and says, "Okay."
Jane shuts the door behind him. She backs against the wall.
Nick stops to look around, as if he's never been there.
"Sit down," she says.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"They'll be here soon. They know," he says. "For Christ's sake, Jane. They have to know I killed her."
"But how do you know?" she asks.
He shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's a strange, dramatic gesture -- one she thinks is made to stifle tears.
Earlier that day, policemen found her sister's corpse. It was lodged in a storm drain half a mile from the hotel.
The party had begun on Friday afternoon. By Sunday, late last night, they were all a sorry mess. Nick and Ellen's fighting got nastier than usual. A weekend of misery spiraled to a fitting end.
The others had departed, with Monday looming. It had come down to the three of them-Ellen, Nick and Jane.
"Nick?"
"What is it?"
"You're wrong about Ellen."
He shakes his head, certain of his guilt.
He loved her. That's the worst part. Nick loved Ellen. It's why he still believes he could have taken her life.
The truth, Jane knows, is that her sister didn't care.
All along, it was Jane who loved him.
She never had a chance, though, with Ellen around. So cold and hard and beautiful -- in life as well as death.
"I killed her," Jane says.
"That's ridiculous, Jane."
"I'm serious. I killed her. And I'd do it again."
Nick goes for the door, but Jane steps in front of him. He'll run while he can to give his family hope. When the police catch him, he'll fight. He'll give them no choice. He can't live with who he is or what he thinks he's done.
She grabs hold of his shirt and says, "Listen to me."
"Stop it."
"I love you, Nick."
He shoves her away.
Jane giggles, cries, hysterical. "Ellen didn't love you. I did. I do. I always will. We can be together, now."
"This is fucking crazy."
"She was tired of you," Jane says.
"I remember --"
"No, you don't."
Confused, he says, "They're coming."
"You'll get off. Don't run. Stay here with me."
"You really killed her," he says.
She digs her nails through this shirt. He grabs her wrists and forces them down.
"I love you," she says.
"You're insane."
"I'm glad."
He reaches for the doorknob, but she rakes his arm.
He slaps her and she smiles.
It's quiet for a moment.
When he reaches for the door again, she jumps back in his way. She claws his face, rips his hair, thrashing as they fall.
"I killed her!"
Slap.
"I love you!"
Balled fist hovering.
"I killed --"
Knuckles through her teeth.
"--her."
In and twisting out.
"I--"
Their blood stirs on her lips.
"--love --"
His fingers find her neck.
"--God--"
Still, Jane won't tell him that she saw him murder Ellen. She loves him too much, always has, to let him die that way.
"--kill--"
Nick calls her name, rears up like a lover.
"--me--"
And with her final breath she whispers:
"--please."
END