I couldn’t stop crying as I gasped for air. I couldn’t breathe, and I gripped the sides of the table, my teeth cutting the insides of my mouth. I tried to think of my gazebo. If Will helped me build it. How nice that might be someday. Will and the gazebo… Will and the gazebo… The breeze on my face was warm, and the leaves in the trees smelled like summer. But as Martin yelled, and I gagged, spaghetti choking me, I couldn’t muster another single coherent thought. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t remember what Will looked like. What my gazebo looked like. I didn’t have a gazebo. There was no Will
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