**Chapter 1: The Day of Death**

I remember every detail of that day, like it was etched into my memory forever. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and my husband, they, were lying in our bed, looking pale and weak. We had spent the morning in bed, enjoying a lazy Sunday morning, and then suddenly, they started to feel unwell. "Something's ain't right, sweetie," they said, their voice weak and labored. I immediately sat up and held them in my arms. "What's wrong? What's happening?" I asked, panic rising in my voice. They didn't answer, but instead, they took my hand and held it tight. I quickly got out of bed and ran to the phone to call an ambulance. As I was dialing the numbers, they whispered sweet words in my ear. "I love you, Noa... you're my everything... my sweetheart." Their pulse was getting slower, and their skin was becoming paler by the second. I could see the fear in their eyes, and it broke my heart. As I waited for the ambulance to arrive, I held them in my arms, trying to comfort them. They were struggling to take every breath, and their eyes were fixed on mine, filled with sadness and love. "I'm here, baby... I'm here," I whispered, trying to keep them calm. But it was too late. Their hand slipped away from mine, and their eyes froze, looking at me with a sad expression. I screamed their name, but they didn't respond. They were gone. The paramedics arrived, and they tried to revive them, but it was too late. They couldn't bring them back. I was screaming and crying, feeling like my world was crashing down around me. I remember feeling like I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up. The paramedics were talking to me, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I was too busy crying and screaming their name. As they took them away, I felt like a part of me was gone. I was left alone, with a gaping hole in my chest. I didn't know how I was going to live without them. The rest of the day was a blur. I was taken to the hospital, and I was put into a psychiatric ward because I was in shock. I didn't care about anything; I just wanted them back. But as the day went on, I started to remember the sweet words they said to me, the way they held my hand, and the way they looked at me with love in their eyes. I knew that I had to hold on to those memories, and I had to find a way to move on. Little did I know that my journey was just beginning, and it would take me to places I never imagined. But for now, I just had to focus on surviving the pain and the grief that was consuming me. As I lay in the hospital bed, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. I felt like they were still with me, watching over me, but I couldn't see them. I closed my eyes, and I remembered the way they used to make me feel. The way they used to touch me, the way they used to kiss me. I felt a lump in my throat, and I started to cry again. But this time, I cried for a different reason. I cried because I knew that I had to find a way to bring them back, to make them live again. And I was determined to do just that. The thought of living without them was unbearable. I had to find a way to bring them back, no matter what it took. As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a presence around me. It was like they were still with me, watching over me. And I knew that I wasn't alone. I smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could bring them back. And maybe, just maybe, we could be together again. The darkness closed in around me, but I wasn't afraid. I knew that they were with me, and that gave me the strength to keep going. As I slept, I felt their presence around me, like a warm hug. And I knew that I would do anything to bring them back, to make them live again. The memories of that day haunted me, but they also gave me the strength to keep going. I knew that I had to find a way to bring them back, and I was determined to do just that. Their death had left a gaping hole in my life, but I was determined to fill it again. I was determined to bring them back, and to make our love live again. And so, my journey began. A journey to bring back the love of my life, a journey to find out who took them away from me, and a journey to make them live again. It was a journey that would take me to the depths of hell and back, but I was ready. I was ready to face whatever came my way, as long as it meant bringing them back. As I lay in the hospital bed, I knew that I had a long road ahead of me. But I was ready. I was ready to fight for our love, and to bring them back to life. And so, I closed my eyes, and I whispered a promise to them. "I'll find a way, my love. I'll bring you back."