I woke up slowly, like a budding flower, to the rising sun. My eyes closed a bit tighter as I tried to let them adjust to the light. I swallowed hard, then looked down to my side on the bed. It was empty but ruffled. Fabian wasn't in it, but his deep scent, his essence, all of it lingered.
I swallowed hard, turning away, my mind reminding me of what the day was. Saturday. The day my father would have been laid to rest if it wasn't for the autopsy.
I slowly got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I bent over the sink, my hand going under the faucet. It came on, and I watched as the water slowly filled my hands.
I gave a small sigh as I poured it on my face, then took a deep breath. Something felt ominous. It was almost like a looming, bad feeling, and I simply couldn't shake it off.
