I sink into one of the chairs and try to process everything.

Leah. Missing.

Leah. Dying.

It just doesn’t make sense.

She’s young. A force of life so bright at times I found it hard to be around her. I can’t imagine her not in this world. I can’t imagine that she’s si ck or hurting.

Or that she’s been suffering for a long time and I never noticed.

My chest aches and I rub at the center of it.

“I still have to make rounds,” Adam says. “And there is a chance that if Leah left, that maybe she doesn’t want to be found. She might be si ck of all of us.”

I nod.

don’t like it, but

should’ve done so many

loved her.

All the days when I purposely kept her at arm’s length. All the times she tried to make our marriage a real one. Not just in bed, but by

in the kitchen and make

for me in the library, reading one of her

back down, no matter how many times I tried to relegate her

she’s gone?

Dying???

lose her.

It’s not physical so much as a wave of grief that floods

That light fragrant smell of her hair that’s partly her shampoo and, beneath that, the

the hospital room.

can imagine what

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