**The Day They Died**

I remember that day like it was yesterday. The sun was shining through the windows of our bedroom, casting a warm glow over the space. The four hotels, my loving husband, was lying beside me, his head resting on the pillow. We had spent the morning making love, laughing, and whispering sweet nothings to each other. It was a typical Sunday morning for us, filled with love and affection. As we lay there, they suddenly sat up, their eyes wide with concern. "Something's ain't right, sweetie," they said, their voice laced with worry. I asked them what was wrong, but they just shook their head, their face pale. They grasped my hand, their grip tight with pain. I quickly got out of bed and reached for my phone to call an ambulance. "What's happening, baby?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. They didn't answer, their eyes fixed on mine, filled with a deep sadness. As I dialed the emergency number, they whispered sweet words to me, "I love you, Noa. You're the love of my life." Their pulse was getting slower, and their skin was becoming paler by the second. I could feel their life slipping away, and I was powerless to stop it. The paramedics arrived quickly, and they rushed into our bedroom, trying to revive them. But it was too late. The four hotels' hand slipped away from mine, and their eyes, once full of love and life, became glassy and still. I screamed and cried, holding their lifeless body in my arms. The paramedics tried to comfort me, but I was beyond consolation. They took them away, and I was left alone, surrounded by the silence of our home. I was in shock, unable to process what had just happened. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile white walls. A doctor was standing beside me, explaining that I had been in shock, and that I needed to rest. I didn't care about anything except the four hotels. Where were they? Why weren't they here with me? The doctor's words were a blur as I tried to piece together what had happened. I remembered them dying in my arms, and the pain was still fresh, still raw. I couldn't bear the thought of living without them. As I lay there, tears streaming down my face, I knew I had to find a way to say goodbye, to bury them, to move on. But little did I know, that was not going to be easy. The four hotels' body was gone, and I had a feeling that someone had taken it, hidden it from me. I was determined to find out who and why. But for now, I just lay there, surrounded by the emptiness of the hospital room, my heart shattered into a million pieces, my mind consumed by the thought of the four hotels, and the love we shared.