Evelyn sat up in bed with a sharp gasp.
Her heart was pounding violently against her ribs, far too fast. A strange, hollow emptiness had settled deep in her chest — like something vital had been ripped away. Her eyes burned and watered without warning. A slow, aching pain spread through her body, heavy and suffocating, as if a gloomy grey cloud had wrapped itself around her soul.
Why am I hurting? Why am I crying? she thought, pressing a hand to her chest.
Something was missing.
The feeling was so intense it frightened her. It wasn't just loneliness — it was deeper, sharper, like a part of her had suddenly gone silent. She looked around the dark bedroom, eyes darting to the empty spot beside her where the dog usually slept curled against her.
He still wasn't there.
She hadn't seen him since earlier that evening.
