All my food cravings go away, and my morose mood vanishes. All I can think is that Griffin is in the lobby, singing me one of the sweetest love songs ever—despite the fact that he hates singing. It was my grandma’s favorite. She and Grandpa danced to it at their wedding. She told me every time she heard the song, she felt loved. His voice caresses my senses like a dream. If I thought my heart was soaring at the concert in Tokyo, it’s about to burst now with love and longing. Griffin keeps singing. I start moving toward him, my arms spread wide. All that matters is that half of my soul is
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