**The Day They Died**

I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a typical Wednesday morning, and I was making breakfast in the kitchen while they were still sleeping. I had made their favorite, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, and was about to wake them up when I heard them stirring in the bedroom. They always woke up early, and I loved watching them stretch and yawn, their muscles rippling beneath their skin. As I walked into the bedroom, they were sitting up in bed, rubbing their eyes. They smiled at me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I loved the way they smiled at me, like I was the only person in the world. "Good morning, beautiful," they said, their voice husky from sleep. I handed them a cup of coffee and sat down beside them on the bed. We chatted about our plans for the day, and they told me they had a meeting at work in the afternoon. I remember feeling a little concerned about their health, they had been complaining about fatigue and weakness for a few weeks, but they reassured me it was just stress. As we were getting ready for the day, they suddenly clutched their stomach and doubled over. "Something's ain't right, sweetie," they said, their voice laced with concern. I immediately felt a sense of panic and helped them sit down on the bed. Their face was pale, and their eyes looked sunken. I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed the ambulance while holding them. "It's going to be okay, I've got you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. They took my hand and held it tight, their grip weak but warm. "I love you, Noa," they whispered, their voice barely audible. "You're the love of my life, my everything." Tears streamed down my face as I looked at them, seeing the fear and pain in their eyes. Their pulse was slowing down, and I could feel their life force ebbing away. I screamed for them to hold on, to not leave me, but it was too late. Their eyes locked onto mine, and I saw the sadness and love there, and then their hand slipped away from mine. Their body went limp, and they fell back onto the bed, their eyes still open and staring at me with a mixture of sadness and love. The paramedics arrived soon after, and they tried to revive them, but it was too late. They couldn't bring them back. I was screaming and crying, my world shattering into a million pieces. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital, with no memory of how I got there. A nurse told me that I had been in an accident and had gone into shock after witnessing them dying. I didn't care about anything, all I wanted was for them to come back to me. As I lay there, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. They had taken them away, and I hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. I felt a sense of desperation wash over me, and I knew I had to find out what had happened to their body. The doctor came in and told me that I would need some time to recover, but I knew I had to get out of there. I had to find them, to bury them, to say goodbye. But as I got dressed and ready to leave, I realized that I had no idea where their body was. A chill ran down my spine as I thought about the possibility that someone might have taken their body. I pushed the thought away, telling myself I was being paranoid, but the feeling lingered. As I walked out of the hospital, I felt a sense of determination wash over me. I would find out what had happened to them, and I would make sure they received the burial they deserved. Little did I know, my journey was just beginning, and it would change everything.