One year ago Chellie Morris drove through a stop sign—less than a mile from her house—into the stampeding traffic of State Route 30. Nathan, her husband, arrived home after the accident to find a four-word note on a bookshelf; not a suicide note, not a goodbye, not even a reminder for something he might forget, just four unexplainable words. Too much alcohol and too little sleep have turned the last 365 days into a stagnant haze. Painful flashes from the last day, uneven rewinds of the past, and the haunting words of the note chaotically rumble and roll through his mind. Four words—only four words left.