One crisp autumn day, I sat alone in my small, cozy apartment, the sunlight streaming weakly through the windows.

The orange and red leaves outside seemed to mock my restlessness as I stared at my phone, waiting for my boyfriend, Jace, to finally show up.

He hadn’t visited in days, claiming he was just tired, but something about his excuses didn’t sit right with me.

I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, tapping my foot anxiously against the hardwood floor. Finally, I gave up and dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he answered.

“Hello?” Jace answered, his voice low and groggy, like he’d just woken up.