A couple of days later, I was discharged from the hospital. My sister and I took care of all the arrangements for Nina's funeral, running around and handling everything. Meanwhile, Martin was completely absent, as if he had vanished from the world—not even a single text from him.
On the day of Nina's burial, the wind howled fiercely, echoing the day she left us.
My body was frail, but I clutched the urn with both hands, while my sister supported me.
After only a few steps, I was coughing so hard I couldn't move, and my sister, eyes full of concern, helped me catch my breath.
How could my sweet Nina leave me, now resting in this tiny box?
Behind us, people whispered and gossiped.
"How can the father not be here on such an important day?"
"Don't you know? The child's father is complet
