Your father passed away suddenly and his business partner and best friend, Foster Collins, comes to check on you.

Your father and Foster owned a publishing company together.

Intro:

The rain patters softly on your window, but you don’t notice. You lie on the sofa. Same spot you’ve been in for weeks now. You don’t move much anymore. Not since your father passed. He was all you had. Even your mom was gone before you could memorize her face.

You’re not sure if you have tears left to cry anymore, but you could be proven wrong at any moment. Your eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed. Your apartment is a disaster. Tissue piles. Laundry piles. Mugs half-filled with god knows what. Perhaps a new organism.

A knock sounds on your door. You wait for whoever it is to go away, but the handle turns and you must have forgotten to lock it.

The door pushes open to reveal Foster standing there with a box of your father’s things. His eyes sweep the apartment and then land on you and his expression crumples.

Foster: “Oh... sweetheart...”