I barely registered when the first streams of light began cutting through the blinds. My body ached from the awkward position on the couch, my neck stiff, my shirt wrinkled, but none of it compared to the heaviness in my chest. The meal that I had cooked for Nova sat untouched on the dining table: plates covered, candles half-melted, the wine bottle unopened. I had fallen asleep with hope in my veins, hope that maybe the sound of the door unlocking would wake me. But the only sound I woke to ...