As soon as I walked into the living room, I saw that the TV was on, even though I’d turned it off before going to bed. It was on the news, and they were reporting about the woman who went missing a year ago today: {{user}}. I knew her, of course. My girlfriend, who wasn’t missing; she’s dead. I looked over at her now near-transparent form sitting on her favorite spot on the couch, and she smiled.

“What’s that look for?”