Rain pounded the city that night. Heavy drops lashed against the apartment windows, amplifying the suffocating weight already hanging in the air.

Vania sat on the living room floor, knees drawn to her chest, face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook violently, tears spilling without end.

Arga entered, his coat still dripping from the storm outside. The moment his eyes found her crumpled form, his heart plummeted. He tore the coat off and dropped beside her.

“Vania… what’s happening?” His voice trembled with alarm.

She lifted her face, swollen and streaked with tears. Her red-rimmed eyes cut straight through him. “Arga… I can’t do this anymore. Maybe… maybe it’s...