Sometimes it’s easier to believe the lie. But is the truth right in front of you? Everyone says Poppy jumped. My beautiful, creative sister, with her paint-splattered dresses and sunshine smile, took her own life. And I think they’re right. Until the day I get a call from a man with a very similar story. Everyone says his sister jumped too. But he has proof that she was pushed. And if she was, I have to ask myself: could the same thing have happened to Poppy? In the moments before she died, was she really calling me to say goodbye, or was she calling for my help? Was she really alone on that cliff edge? When Poppy’s friends tell me she had a serious boyfriend, I feel like I’m losing my grip on reality. If they were so madly in love, wouldn’t she have told me? Wouldn’t there be pictures of them together? And when I find the silver heart necklace he gave her, I feel sick. It’s the same silver heart another murdered girl was given in the weeks before she died. This can’t be a coincidence. Either I’ve lost my mind, or the man my darling sister loved killed her. And if he could charm his way into her life so easily, what’s to say he’s not already in mine?