The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks into months.
Alex no longer laughed. No longer played. No longer cared.
The boy who once chased after the girl with golden hair, who once promised forever under the stars, was gone. What remained was a hollow version of him, drifting through life like a ghost.
He stopped going to their favorite places—the garden where they had spent endless afternoons playing hide-and-seek, the hill where they had whispered their pinky promises to the stars. Without Emily, those places were nothing but cruel reminders of what he had lost.
His parents tried to console him, but their words felt distant, meaningless.
"I'm worried about him," he overheard his mother whisper one evening outside his door. "He hasn't spoken much since the accident."
"Give him time," his father murmured. "Losing Emily was... it was devastating for him."
Hearing her name sent a fresh wave of pain through Alex's chest. He clenched his fists beneath the covers.
If only I had died with her.
Far away, in another town, Emily sat by a window, watching the rain streak down the glass. Her heart ached in ways she couldn't explain.
Her parents had moved her away from the town after the accident, saying it was too dangerous to stay. Every time she asked about Alex, the answer was always the same.
"He's gone, Emily."
"A bad man took him away."
At night, she whispered his name into the darkness, hoping somehow, somewhere, he could hear her.
But no answer ever came.
Neither of them knew the truth.
Neither of them knew they were both still alive—just worlds apart.