"It’s going to be okay, honey,” Brie says as we walk out of the hospital into an early spring snowstorm. She doesn’t know that, but I play along. It’s exactly the kind of thing that I need to hear right now. I don’t want to take a cab or go into the subway. It’s about a half an hour walk from the hospital, but the fresh air feels nice. Even if it is bone-chilling. As we walk, I lean against Brie and let her hold me up.

“I don’t want to go inside,” I say when we turn onto my street. I hadn’t realized how much I was dreading going up there until this very moment.

“It’s going to be okay,” Brie says, squeezing my shoulders.

I shake my head. Tears roll down my face.

“Do you want to go get a hotel?”

“Yes,” I mumble. “No.”

She waits for me to make a decision.

“Okay, let’s go in,” I finally say.

“Are you sure?”

“No, but it’s now or never.”

***

Walking inside, I expect to feel him here again. His anger. My fear. I expect to feel plunging that pen into his neck. Red blood running down my arm. I’m surprised when I don’t. After the cops took down the crime scene tape and collected all of their evidence, Brie ordered a crime scene cleanup crew to come and make everything normal again. They did a good job. It’s so clean now, you can practically eat off the floor. Too clean, actually. It was never like this when Caroline and I were here. I glance over at Caroline’s door. She isn’t here anymore either. Tears run down my cheeks as Brie walks me to my room and undoes the covers.

“You need to sleep.”

My eyes close before Brie leaves the room.

He’s here again. I can smell the sweetness of his breath. I can feel his hatred for me. His jealousy of Aiden. He’s standing over me. You won’t get away this time. This time, you’re going to pay. I’m going to take what’s mine. You belong to me. Aiden is dead. I killed him. And now you will be mine forever.

The wind gets knocked out of my chest. I open my eyes gasping for breath. My head is swimming. I’m drenched in cold sweat. I slowly rise to my feet and stumble to the bathroom. I don’t make it to the toilet. I throw up in the sink and then collapse onto the floor.

I don’t know how much time has passed. My body is shaking from the cold. I’m lying on the tile floor. My hair is wet and it’s sticking to the floor. I try to get up, but my head feels heavy. Impossible to move. The closest I get is to roll over to my side. No, I can’t. I close my eyes again and drift away.

“Are you okay? Ellie?” Someone is shaking me. My eyelids are pushing down on me. I’m not strong enough to open them.

“Ellie!” She shakes me.

“Brie…what are you doing?” I mumble. Every muscle in my body is stiff. I’m a Tin Man who needs to oil his joints.

“I got sick during the night,” I say. “And then…I fell asleep?”

“Oh my God, I thought something had happened,” she gasps. Well, something did technically happen. I climb to my feet and try to gather my thoughts. That was not the most pleasant night, to say the least.

Brie helps me to the living room and makes me some pancakes. I smother mine in maple syrup and dig in wholeheartedly. The carbs and the sugar hardly matter now.

Looking around, I get the feel of the place. It looks like my old place. Cleaner, yes. But it’s not really that same place at all. There’s no Caroline in the room next to mine. Now, there’s Brie. An unexpected, but a much welcome guest. And here at the kitchen island, I feel him. This is where he attacked me. This is where I killed him. Will anything be the same again?

***

Unsure as to what to do before heading to the hospital to see Aiden again, I go back to my room and take out my laptop. My writing is my trusty old friend. If I’m stressed, afraid, or unsure, I sit at my computer and bury myself in a story. Somehow other people’s problems make my own seem so much less important. Or maybe they just take me away from them for a little bit. We all need an escape, right?

I open the latest story that I’ve been working on. Unlike my other work, this isn’t fiction. It’s the truth, only I’m selling it as fiction because I’m not sure anyone would believe me if they knew the truth. In this story, Caroline is still alive. It’s nice to visit with her again. I can almost feel her presence.

After all is said and done, we are nothing but dust in the wind. And stories.

Caroline is gone, but she’s with me. Her life is with me. And as long as I can write down her story, she will continue to be with me.

I know for a fact that’s why people read my books. They escape into them. They take them away from their everyday problems. And for that, I’m grateful.

The doorbell rings. Brie answers and then comes and knocks on my door.

“There’s a package here for you.”

“I’ll be right there.” I don’t take off my earphones as I continue to frantically type. When words are flowing, I don’t dare interrupt. I have to see where they take me. I’m the writer of the story, but I’m on a journey of discovery as much as the reader. Most of the time, I don’t have a plan. And even if I do, it’s only in the beginning. Then I veer off course and that’s where most of the exciting parts of the story come from.

“What’s up?”

“This came for you.”

I pick up the small gray package and turn it around. No return address. No description on the top. Hmm, odd. I dig into it, but it’s a hard plastic that doesn’t give much. After a few moments, I give up and grab a pair of scissors from the drawer.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, opening the small black box inside the envelope.

“What is it?”

I take them out and lay them carefully on my palm. Brie and I both stare at the delicate drop earrings with a two-tone circle at the bottom. They are strong and rigid in design. The circle at the end is divided into two halves - marble and gold.

The box comes with a little note.

These made me think of you. I hope you like them.

Love forever,

Aiden

My heart skips a beat. Tears start to run down my cheeks.

“He must’ve ordered you these before he…” Brie says, her voice dropping off.

I nod and caress the earrings with my fingers. I love them, Aiden. They are perfect. Suddenly, I miss Aiden so much, I double over in pain.

“I need to see him.”