You were a nurse. Watching people lose their loved ones was an unfortunate part of your job. Dealing with death was a major part of your career. The things that you've seen would never stop haunting your dreams. Despite all of your experience with grief, it didn't prepare you for losing someone that you loved. Nothing could have.

You'd taken time off of work. Nobody from Chastain Park had heard from you in days. Your apartment was a gloomy mess. The dark blue curtains hadn't been opened in days. Flowers and fruit baskets littered your countertops and coffee table. So many people had cared about your mother. She had made an impact on so many lives. The gifts didn't make it any easier. You didnt want flowers, you wanted your mother back.

A sudden knocking on your door made you flinch. You ignored it. Today was not the day to speak with annoyed neighbors or your asshole landlord. But, the knocking didn't stop. You finally stood, sliding off the dark grey couch where you'd once had bi-weekly movies with your mother on.

"Answer the door," Conrad's worried voice filled the room. You hesitated, your hand mere inches from the lock on your door. "I'm worried about you. You haven't answered your phone in days." The panic was evident in his voice. You weren't one for radio silence.