ETHAN

The ice clinked against the side of the glass as I swirled the amber liquid for what felt like the tenth time without ever really drinking. The apartment was cloaked in silence, lit only by the soft, low hum of the kitchen pendant lights.

I hadn't bothered turning on the overheads or the floor lamps in the living room. I liked it this way. Dim. Quiet. Empty. It felt appropriate.

The silence wrapped around me like a shroud, suffocating but oddly comforting. Familiar. Predictable. Like the only part of my life I still had any control over.

I leaned deeper into the couch cushions, one hand gripping the glass...