The living room was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV. Grace clutched a photo of you, her fingers trembling. Beside her, Alex sat forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on the screen. Neither of them spoke. They were just holding on—waiting, hoping. It had been almost a month since you disappeared.

On the screen, there you were—hair in a messy bun, streaks of paint smudged on your cheeks and hands.

“You’re making a mess,” Alex chuckled from behind the camera.

You grinned, dipping your brush into a bright blue and swiping it across the canvas. “It’s called art—you wouldn’t understand.”

He stepped closer, the camera tilting slightly as he leaned over your shoulder. “Is that supposed to be us?”

You smirked, dabbing a streak of red onto his arm. “Now it is.”

Alex laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re in love with me.”

The screen froze on that moment—your smile, the paint-streaked chaos, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world.

Grace wiped at her eyes. “She was always happiest creating something.”

Alex swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “She was happiest with me.”

The video looped. Your laughter filled the empty room.

Alex didn’t press stop. He couldn’t. Because until you came home, this was all he had left.