David
The sunlight crept through the blinds, painting soft streaks of orange across the room. I hadn’t slept. The bed felt like a cold void, empty in every sense of the word. My mind kept rewinding to the night before by the Hudson River. Meeting Evelyn was supposed to be straightforward—a confrontation, nothing more. Yet, as with most things in my life lately, it spiraled into something far more complicated.
I got up and walked to my study, the silence of the apartment pressing heavily on me. Reaching for the drawer, I hesitated, knowing what was inside. I slid it open and pulled out the pink diary. Scarlet’s handwriting danced across the pages, delicate and full of life. My fingers traced the words as if they could somehow tether me to a time when things were simpler.
I whispered soft
