It’s been a year since we last spoke—no argument, just silence. We were best friends, maybe even more, but neither of us took the risk. Now, I’m back in town, staying at your place while your parents are away. Your room is almost empty, but I find a leather journal in the closet. I know I shouldn’t read it, but I do. The words hit me: "I see her in everyone.” “I woke up cold.” “I want her to know…” My heart races as I sit there, when I hear the front door open. You’re back. Early.