Lauren sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the photo she couldn’t bring herself to put away. It was dog-eared and faded now, but Lewis’s smile still burned as brightly as ever. She traced her finger over his face, her chest tightening.
The world had moved on. People talked about healing and "letting go," but for her, time felt frozen, trapped in that single moment.
The accident had shattered her. The months afterward had nearly destroyed her.
The first month after Lewis died was a fog. Lauren barely left her bed, let alone her house. Every noise outside felt like an intrusion, every attempt to comfort her felt like salt in a wound.
“Lauren, sweetheart,” her mom’s voice filtered through the haze of her thoughts, but Lauren didn’t turn around. She was curled up in the corner of the co
