Chapter Nine

Sebastian

It's been almost five weeks since Beth passed, and with each passing day, I question my ability to carry on. The days are dull, the colours fading to black and white as I stumble through them with less zest than I've ever held, but Melody's my silver lining.

She's the only thing capturing my need to live, the only motivation to stick around here. She keeps me on my toes, and I run around for most of the day to her every whim.

A toy dump closely follows breakfast in the living room, which is then followed by lunch and then her nap time.

And though that sounds vastly busy and consuming, it's then when there's no sound coming from the house that my mind wanders to the nasty reality we are currently living.

I'm glad when she wakes, her little giggles giving me purpose.

But that only leaves a deep dread for her bedtime, which, of course, we've almost mastered, her bath before her book, which takes place in the rocking chair beside her bed just as Beth had always done, well, b