Olivia Martins

The room was too quiet without him.

I sat curled on the couch, knees to my chest, wrapped in one of the soft blankets I’d found at the foot of the bed. The lights were dimmed low, casting a golden glow across the walls, but it did nothing to warm the emptiness of the space. I had changed into my pajamas, an old cotton tank and shorts that suddenly felt too thin for how cold the room had gotten.

I checked the time again. It was well past ...