I only realize how long I’ve stayed without eating when my stomach grumbles. Although I don’t feel like eating, my body betrays me, and I start to feel heady and weak.

I try to stand up, but then my grief grips me on choke-hold, causing me to clasp my hands on my chest as I do my best to hold back my tears even though it’s nearly stealing my breathe.

The people next to me are looking. I don’t want them to stare. I don’t want their pity either, which is why I finally manage to stand ...