Waiting Game
With Mark deep in his investigation, I felt adrift, overwhelmed by the torrent of my own thoughts. Each passing moment carried a weight of sorrow I couldn’t escape. My world seemed to collapse inward, leaving everything unfamiliar, as if I were seeing my life through a new and unsteady lens. I often found myself drawn to the window, gazing out in a daze, wondering what truths Mark might uncover—and whether I would have the strength to face them when he did.
Waiting Game
Silent Days
The days dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Mark’s silence was a double-edged sword—comforting in its suggestion of thoroughness, yet unsettling in the void it left for my imagination to spiral. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart raced, bracing for news from him. But the silence persisted, leaving me in a state of suspended anticipation, as if I were holding my breath, waiting for the inevitable.
Silent Days
