Soon after he's gone, I have the procedure. I feel okay, but confirmation of it will be nice, before I go to the police.

It's three in the morning by this time, when the nurse ushers me from the treatment room to an observation area.

"You can rest here for a few hours and we'll run the test again," she tells me.

This sucks, but I'm exhausted and still a bit disoriented, so I surrender. There are a few other warm bodies in the room, in four or so other beds, but we're separated by hanging white sheets, so it's relatively private.

Lying there in the dark, I scroll mindlessly through my phone. There's nothing to go on. Kept company only by the low glow, I'm empty and cold, so, so, cold.

Elise is gone. Somehow I know it. Sti...

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