I heard her calling my name the next morning, but refused to answer, still tucked into my hiding place. I simply couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. A clean break would be better, easier. She finally stopped, thankfully. I wasn't sure how much more I'd be able to resist.

But when I heard the front door open, the conversation coming from downstairs, trunks being moved and crying mixed with farewells, I could no longer hold back. I had to see her, at the very least, to burn ...