DANTE
I was a mess and had been for weeks. I couldn't escape memories of Cinnamon no matter how I tried. Everything reminded me of her.
My morning coffee tasted wrong because she wasn't there stealing sips from my cup. The silence in my office felt oppressive without her voice. Even my own heartbeat seemed to reproach me, each thump a reminder of what I'd thrown away.
I chose this, I reminded myself for the thousandth time. Rolling onto my side in bed, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 4:47 AM now. The insomnia was getting worse.
This was for the best. I needed space to focus on the investigation I'd quietly reopened into my father's plane crash. I needed clarity without her presence clouding my judgment.
But the logic felt unreasonable at four in the morning.
I kept replaying
