Morgan was my coworker. She always had a smile on her face and was probably the only person at work who genuinely loved her job. She never complained about customers, and she was always kind to everyone--even if they didn't deserve it. I trained her how to close, and I grew to respect her through that. She was a hard worker, and eager to learn. I didn't know a thing about her personal life, but we enjoyed chatting about silly little things...like the way she did her hair, the drama of the skunk family that lived under the building, etc... I still remember the last thing I said to her, it was the night before she killed herself. Probably not even 12 hours before she took her own life. I asked her if she was okay. Not because I thought she was going to end her life, but because I knew she was recovering from the flu. She looked me in the eye and told me that she was alright, she seemed like her normal self, nothing was off. So I believed her of course, why wouldn't I? But hell, I sure wish I didn't.