A cold breeze passed as the door shut. There was an honest truth to the steps she could faintly hear moving past it. Standing still, in the middle of the room, she walked to the door and placed both hands on its back. Silent, she let the emptiness in. It engulfed her and turned her over in its cruel hand. She thought of holding on to the knob for as long as she could, still warm from his grip. So she did. Never opening the door all the way again, but just peeking out in the late dark hours when she was scared. Just to see, just to know if he was still there. He lingered, his backwards shadow is all she came to know of him.