“I can’t lose you. You’re all I’ve got. Please.”

   I rest my head on him, and cry, my heart breaking with every sob.

   I don’t know what else to do.

   The rest of the day is a blur, and all I feel is numbness. I know it’s a defense mechanism, because there’s no other way I’m going to survive this loss.

   My dad was the one who got me through my mom’s death. He was there for me, sometimes just sitting with me in silence when I needed him, other times pushing me to express myself and talk to him. I don’t know how, but he just knew what I needed, and with him gone...

   So is my strength.

   No child should live through losing not one but both of her parents so young. I’m only twenty-four. I consider myself a strong woman, but grief...grief is something that can destroy me.

   Closing my eyes, I picture his face the last time I saw him, when he came into work with a smile on his face and food for me.

   I hope he knew how much I loved him. He was the best dad in the world, and there was no love like his.

   The ambulance arrives, and I know what they’re going to say before they say it. The paramedics give me a look of pure sympathy, and they all tell me how sorry they are.

   I know they are just being kind and doing their job, but I don’t want their sorrys.

   I want the one man who loved me more than life itself back.

* * *

   I place the pillow over my head to try to block out the loud banging.

   Go away, I mouth, wishing whoever’s at the door would just leave me alone.

   It’s been a week since I lost my dad, and a few days since they told me he had overdosed on pain medication. My dad was someone who rarely even took ibuprofen, so I don’t really know what to do with that information. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since I lost him, and the story I’ve been told just doesn’t sit well with me. There’s something fishy about it; I’m not buying it. I don’t know, in my gut I know that it’s not something he would do. I know I’ve been overthinking it, but I just can’t seem to let it go.

   I haven’t left my house once in all this time, and I keep ignoring anyone who tries to talk to me. I already saw everyone at the funeral, which was all a blur. My uncle planned the whole thing, asking for my input and making sure to include me, but I wasn’t really present. The only thing I can remember is excruciating pain and different faces with sympathy in their eyes.

   After the funeral, I locked myself in my apartment, and everyone else out. I’m just not ready to face people again, and I want to be left alone. I’ve probably lost my job, but right now I don’t care.

   Anything that mattered to me before means nothing to me right now.

   My heart is broken, and with the way I’m feeling I don’t think it’s something I’m ever going to recover from. I always thought nothing could break me, but now I know that’s not the truth.

   I’m a different person from who I was a week ago, and nobody knows me anymore.

   Sitting up when I hear the scrape of my window frame being forced open, I get out of bed in a rush. My eyes widen as I stare at Crow sliding into my now-open living room window.

   Is he kidding me right now?

   “Did you just break into my house?” I ask, frowning. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

   As I look at him, I suddenly remember him being at my side at the funeral, talking to me and holding my hand. I don’t think I said much, but now that I see him in front of me, I knew he was there.

   “No one has seen or heard from you, and we’re all worried,” he says, taking a step closer to me. He rakes his gaze over me, as if making sure I’m okay. “You can’t just shut us all out, Bronte.”

   “I just want to be alone,” I say, sighing, tears filling my eyes.

   “When’s the last time you ate? Or showered?” he asks gently. “I know you want to be alone, but maybe what you need is someone to take care of you right now.”

   He comes over and wraps his arms around me. Kissing me on the top of my head, he whispers, “You will get through this. I’m so sorry, Bronte, and I know nothing will take the pain away, but don’t push the people who care about you away, okay?”

   I melt into him, allowing myself to be weak, allowing the tears to drop and my body to tremble. He lifts me up and carries me to the bathroom, like a child, and fills up the bath. I hang on to him, like he can fix this, when I know he can’t. No one can. But he’s trying, and that’s more than I can do for myself right now.

   When the bath is warm, he helps me undress and places me in the water. He doesn’t look at me in that way, and I appreciate that. He leaves me alone in the bath and heads out. I stay in until the water is about to turn cold, then get out, brush my teeth and my hair, and make myself feel human again. After putting on my silk robe and wrapping it around me, I step into the kitchen to find Crow making some coffee.

   “I was going to cook you something, but you don’t have much to work with, so I ordered some Chinese food in,” he says, sliding me over the mug. “How are you feeling?”

   “A little better,” I say. Physically, at least. “What would you have done if my apartment wasn’t on the ground floor?”

   “I got lucky.” He grins, flashing his teeth. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

   We cuddle up on the couch, and I drink the coffee in silence. Crow lets me, and just strokes my hair and my shoulders, sending goose bumps over my skin. “Abbie is worried sick about you, and so is her dad.”

   “I just can’t deal with it right now,” I admit, placing the mug down on the coffee table and burying my face in his neck and shoulder. “Why did this happen, Crow? I’ve lost both my parents now. And my dad...he was... God. He was my rock.”

   “I don’t know why it happened,” he whispers back. “There’s no answer to that, Bronte. Life is unfair, and bad things happen to good people, and no one can control that.”

   I cry some more.

   “I’ve got you,” he says, and I don’t know why, but I believe him.

   The Chinese food arrives, and I eat a proper meal for the first time in days. Crow cleans up my apartment and even changes my sheets for me. Where did this man come from? I shouldn’t have to have him doing these things for me, but it’s almost like I’ve given up on life.

   I need to fight. I know my dad wouldn’t want to see me like this. He’d want me to be strong, and to push through.

   I just don’t know how to do it without him.

   “Thank you, Crow,” I say as he comes out of my bedroom. “Thank you for breaking in here and...for everything.”