Leah sat on the edge of the bed, hands tangled in her hair. The house was quiet—too quiet. The walls echoed with memories, with laughter that was gone, with arguments that had once healed as much as they hurt.

She whispered to herself, almost as if testing the sound. “Jason… where are you?”

No answer came. Only silence.

Her phone buzzed. She didn’t even look at it. It could be him. Probably wasn’t. She was afraid to know. Afraid to see a message from anyone, really. Because everyone would ask questions, and she couldn’t answer. Not truthfully. Not without breaking all over again.

She leaned back against the headboard and...