The power came back on sometime before dawn.

I woke to the sudden hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the soft glow of the digital clock on the nightstand. The storm had passed. Everything looked ordinary again in the thin morning light. But the feeling from the night before — the almost-confession, the way he had stood up and left — still sat heavy in my chest.

When I came downstairs, Daniel was already gone.

A note on the counter simply read: Early meeting. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. His handwriting was neat, controlled, the same way he did everything. I stared at it longer than necessary before...