A little past noon, Fabian showed up at Veronica's doorstep, his undisheveled appearance not betraying a wild night out. He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair, cursing the wind while trying to wipe away the remnants of alcohol lingering on his lips.
With a deep breath, he gathered himself and knocked gently on Veronica's door. "Ver?", he called out, his voice a mild tone of concern as he reached for the doorknob. To his surprise, the door swung open easily, and a rush of anxiety washed over him. He feared someone might have broken in. "Are you alright?! Ver!", he called out, rushing inside and scanning the living room in panic.
Davie, Veronica's loyal mutt, was the first to greet him, whining and leading him to where Veronica sat on the floor, her back resting against the sofa. Her eyes were distant, and an air of melancholy surrounded her.
