I woke up each day with a heavy heart and an emptiness that I cannot shake.
Ever since Marion passed away, nothing seemed quite right.
The world felt dimmer, and every small reminder of him cuts like a knife.
I try to get out of bed, but the silence of the empty house greets me like a vast, lonely echo.
Belinda is the only one who stayed close. She sits with me in the mornings, offering a quiet presence and soft words of comfort.
"Selena, I know it hurts," she said, gently wiping away a tear from my cheek. "I'm here for you," her voice is kind, but it cannot fill the deep void left by Marion's absence.
As the news of Marion's passing spreads, I begin to receive countless letters and video calls from his business associates, friends, and acquaintances.
The flood of condolences is overwhelming. Every letter starts with "Dear Mrs. Malström".
Mrs. Malström??
