Scraps of fabric are my only company. The whole thing sounds far more depressing than it is, really. This is a very temporary state of loneliness. Once Pae returns from the Trials—because I refuse to believe there is any other outcome—she will be back to sleeping soundlessly on my left. I scoot over at the thought, ensuring there is plenty of space for the presence of her to sleep peacefully. I refuse to occupy her side, and instead, reserve it with my pile of fabric. A memorial, if you will. But not in a dead, depressing way. More like an I miss you and, don’t worry, I’m saving your spot sort
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