She Rose from the Ashes
Inside were her clothes, her books, and her drawings.
He walked to the desk and saw a neat stack of sketch paper. On every sheet was his face. One showed his profile when he was focused on work, another captured the gentle curve of his smile, and others showed the deep creases on his forehead when he was serious. Each one was drawn with painstaking care.
Silas' hands trembled as he flipped to the last page. It was a sketch of him sleeping, with a small note scrawled beside it. 'Silas, rest when you're tired. I'll always be waiting for you—Chloe.'