I run an AL site at a boarding (high) school, three tables on Friday nights. About three months ago one of our players took her own life.
It was hard getting back to things. We were mercifully spared our usual "next" meeting because of an all-campus event. But two weeks later, there we were. We all congregated, though no reminder e-mail had gone out.
Everyone loitered around, nervously not talking.
They all looked at me strangely.
"Everyone's been asking me how I'm doing, every time I see someone it's all 'how are you?' Well, I'm shitty."
Some nervously chuckled, some cried a bit.
"I don't know if I want to play."
So that's how it started, the process of finding our new normal. We talked for a bit but there's no real need to share the rest--your group's and my group's experiences will be as different as every suicide and its aftermath are. But let me stress this: things will never return to "normal." Your work now is to learn what your new normal is.
What to do? Tell the players honestly how you feel, that you're unsure. Listen to what they have to say. You may not play that night. Hell, you may never play again. But the great thing: all those skills you need to be supportive of each other, you've been practicing them as a group. You listen to each other, you respect each other's contributions and feelings.
In short, all you have to do is the same thing you've been doing every game-night: describe the scene before you, listen to your players, and make a decision as to where to go next.
A postscript, two years out: the rest of the year was really hard, as one might imagine. But near the end of that year I was talking to her father who told me (paraphrasing, here) "she was in a lot of pain, and for a very long time. She was happy and loved and embraced here. I don't she'd have lived as long as she did if not for her friends and teachers."
Thanks to her father's insight I'm able to look back on the stupid harmonica ditties she'd make up for her bard spells, or the acting out of failing a DEX-save she'd do, or even just the smiles she'd throw to everyone around the table differently. Not with sadness at the loss; but with hope that those were a few hours she wasn't in pain, those were hours she looked forward to rather than dreading.